


Good Day, Professor

by faequeentitania



Series: Professor Solo Series [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Car Sex, College Student Rey (Star Wars), Counter Sex, Cowgirl Position, Cunnilingus, Doggy Style, F/M, Falling In Love, Flirting, Forbidden Love, Injury, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Mutual Pining, Older Man/Younger Woman, Oral Sex, Pining, Power Dynamics, Praise Kink, Professor Ben Solo, Romance, Rough Sex, Sex in a Car, Sexual Fantasy, Shower Sex, Thirsty Rey, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-13 08:01:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 38,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15359880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faequeentitania/pseuds/faequeentitania
Summary: She had heard that he was a brutal teacher; impossible to please, harsh in his grading, unwilling to give extra credit, and god forbid you said something he thought was stupid. He also happened to be stupidly attractive, which Rey thought was a quality that was sorely lacking from his campus reputation.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hopping on this AU bandwagon with full enthusiasm and no regrets. As ever, [anerdslife4me](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anerdslife4me) has been an awesome cheerleader and I thank her profusely. <3

She had heard that he was a brutal teacher; impossible to please, harsh in his grading, unwilling to give extra credit, and god forbid you said something he thought was stupid.

He also happened to be stupidly attractive, which Rey thought was a quality that was sorely lacking from his campus reputation.

Everything about him drew her in; the soft waves of his dark hair curling around his collar and framing his face, his angular nose and cheekbones, his dark, elegant eyes, and _christ_ , that _mouth_. She knew more than one girl who would kill for lips as plush as his, and all Rey wanted to do was bite them.

To top it all off, he also happened to be fucking _big_. Towering over everyone, using every ounce of his height and broad, muscled frame to stand imposingly at the front of the room, his impeccably tailored dress shirt and slacks clinging distractedly to every mouth-watering muscle.

She had barely taken two steps into the room on the first day of class before making the immediate decision to sit front and center; where she could admire this gorgeous man from as close as professionally possible.

Which was the exact opposite of her original plan; it was an English Lit course, which was so utterly useless in her Engineering major as to be laughable, but for some reason was still required as part of her “basic education” courses. Her original plan was to sit at the back of the room and do as minimal as possible to pass, while sneaking her Incompressible Aerodynamics homework in under the radar if she could.

Then she laid eyes on one Professor Ben Solo, and any hope of getting a jump start on her other homework during his class went out the window.

Then he _spoke_ , and Rey was truly doomed.

Not just because his voice was honey warm and utterly pleasing, but because of how _passionate_ he was. This was not a man who was a teacher because he didn’t know what else to do with his English degree; he spoke with all the conviction of a man who was determined to craft the next generation of Hemingways and Austens within the walls of his classroom.

Rose thought she was crazy.

“He’s an asshole!” she had protested, having had his class the year before. “And he’s just... a pasty white boy, what is so enchanting about him? He probably unironically loves _The Catcher In the Rye_ , you know.”

He probably did, though Rey hadn’t had the opportunity to do that litmus test on him yet. It would knock him down a few points, but not enough to dissuade her attraction.

And okay, maybe he was a little bit of an asshole; he was fairly quick to be snarky when a student made him repeat himself, and yes, his grading was _brutal_. Even the people who were actually English majors struggled to get better than a B+.

But it didn’t stop her from crossing her legs under her desk and biting her lip when he stood at the front of the class and uncuffed his sleeves, rolling them up his forearms to settle the folded fabric in the crook of his elbow.

He was just corded muscle everywhere; she wanted to lick her way up from his wrists, trail her tongue over the veins that stood out slightly under his pale skin.

Rey’s completely inappropriate daydream about doing just that was interrupted by the shuffle of her fellow students starting to pack their bags, slipping their books into backpacks or under their arms and pulling on jackets and sweatshirts to combat the chilly autumn air outside.

“I expect you all to finish your reading by next class!” Professor Solo called with irritation over the din, looking annoyed, as he always did, when the students started packing up before class was technically over. With only two minutes to go, though, there wasn’t much hope of stopping them.

Rey took her time gathering her things, tucking her book into her messenger bag, then pulling on her jacket with slow, unhurried movements.

She caught his gaze as she slipped the strap of her messenger bag over her head, and gave him a friendly smile.

“Have a good day, Professor Solo.”

Since the first day of class, she had made a habit of bidding him a good day as she was leaving the classroom. And every day since the first day of class, he always seemed a little surprised by her offer of goodwill to him.

“And you, Miss Johnson.”

Her name from his mouth was always a treat, despite its formality. Always Miss Johnson, never Rey. Maybe someday.

Maybe when she eventually figured out how to make small talk with him. At the moment it was almost impossible; the only other time she saw him outside of class was the occasional glimpse of him in the campus cafeteria. He never stayed to eat, usually only grabbing a coffee or a sandwich before disappearing again.

It was so silly, she knew, but she imagined ways she could end up alone with him. “Accidently” bumping into him in the cafeteria, making him spill his coffee, then buying him a new one to make up for it, somehow turning it into a coffee date. Hoping that he’d someday ask her to stay after class, that he would compliment her on her Wonder Woman pen or something, and it would lead them to talking about their interests. She tried to imagine what he looked like when he smiled; she had never seen it, but she was convinced it would be delightful.

Admittedly, though, the bulk of her daydreams revolved around fucking around with him. She had fantasies of going to see him during his office hours. Maybe late in the day, shortly before he left, so they wouldn’t be disturbed. She imagined wearing a little dress and lacy panties, imagined sitting on his desk, watching him go to his knees to bury his face between her legs. She imagined how it would feel to have his tongue running over her clit, his dark hair between her hands, his desk a mess.

Rey sighed, shifting on her bed and trying to readjust her Advanced Physics textbook in her lap. She was getting nowhere fast. She was too distracted, without Rose there to shame her into concentrating. Her roommate was off on a date with Finn, leaving Rey to her own devices for the entire evening.

She glanced at her phone, tapping it to see the time, and biting her lip. She had promised herself that she would study until 9, but at 8:23 she was feeling way too distracted and way too, well... horny.

She had been thinking about Professor Solo all day, had been picturing his sharp, black dress shirt and perfectly tailored slacks, and the way the fabric pulled over his muscles when he moved had been positively mouth-watering. She wondered how it would look if he picked her up, how it would feel to run her hands over the tension in his muscles as he pinned her against the classroom whiteboard with her legs around his waist.

She thunked her head back against the wall with a sigh, rapping her fingers against her book.

“Fuck, forget it,” she mumbled to herself, closing it with a snap and tossing it on the floor beside her backpack. It was a lost cause, there was no way she was getting anything else done that night.

She flopped down on her bed with another sigh, letting her eyes slipped closed. It should be at least another hour before Rose got back, possibly two. She had time.

So she let herself delve into the daydream that had been tickling the back of her mind since Professor Solo’s English class that morning.

_”Miss Johnson,” he called to her as she packed up her things, “a word?”_

_Rey finished packing her bag but remained in her seat until everyone else had gone, the classroom door closing with a snap._

_“Yes sir?” she asked as she finally got up, stepping slowly toward where he was leaning his hip against the desk, arms crossed and gaze hard._

_“You didn’t do the reading, did you?” he asked plainly, cocking his head a little at her, and Rey bit her lip, twisting her hands together guiltily._

_“No sir, I didn’t.”_

_His gaze darkened, then shifted from her face to trail down her body, his mouth pouting contemplatively._

_“You know I’ll have to punish you, don’t you, Rey?”_

Rey shifted a little on the bed, squeezing her legs together. She was already starting to ache, itching to unbutton her jeans and slide her hand inside.

_“Yes sir,” she said softly, licking her lips as he pushed away from the desk and moved closer to her with slow, deliberate steps._

_“You know what I want you to do, don’t you?” he murmured, and Rey nodded, stepping up to his desk and bending over it, her elbows resting on the hard surface._

_He stepped up behind her, running his hands over her ass before slipping them around to the front, undoing her jeans before tugging them down to pool at her ankles._

_“Are you going to miss another assignment this semester, Rey?” he asked in a low growl, and Rey shivered._

Rey shivered for real, squeezing her legs together again as she bit her lip, then slowly undid her jeans, lifting her hips so she could push them down.

_“No sir, I promise,” she breathed, shivering again at the feel of his big hand passing lightly over her asscheek._

_He gave a contemplative hum, then the crack of his hand slapping her ass echoed in the classroom, making her gasp and jolt._

_“We’ll see,” he murmured, doing it again, to the sound of Rey making a low moan._

Rey wet the tips of her fingers with her tongue, pushing her hand into her underwear with a soft pant. She trailed her fingers in a little circle around her clit, just teasing herself, letting her fantasy play out more in her head.

_Her ass was stinging, pink from the impact, and he growled as his hand landed with another hard clap, then stayed, squeezing to make her squirm._

_“Ben,” she gasped, pushing her head down on the desk with a long moan._

_He gave an answering groan, his tight grip switching to a soothing rub before dipping down between her legs._

Her clit throbbed, begging to be touched, and she finally let herself, stifling a moan as she rubbed tight little circles over her swollen bud. Jolts of pleasure shot straight up her spine, arching her back a little and making her legs twitch.

In her fantasies, he always liked her calling him Ben. “Sir” and “Professor” were fun little flirts in the lead up, but calling him Ben- a casual address that was completely out of the question in her real life- made it feel so much more intimate, just like him calling her Rey did.

_“What will you do to make it up to me, Rey?” he murmured, rubbing her clit lightly, too lightly, but Rey whined anyway. “Hm? What will you give me?”_

_“Anything,” she gasped, reaching up for the edge of the desk to hold on._

_“Good girl,” he praised softly, his hand slipping away as he stepped around the desk._

_Rey moaned as he undid his belt and pant fastenings, then she eagerly reached for his hips and drew him closer, taking him into her mouth as he pushed his clothes down his hips._

_“Good, good girl,” he praised again._

She was panting now, squirming a little on her bed as she brought her free hand up to her mouth, sucking three fingers between her lips, mimicking the in and out of his cock in her fantasy. It was filthy, getting so wet just thinking about sucking his dick, of the sounds he would make, the way he would pant.

_He shallowly moved his hips, his hands splayed on the desk on either side of her, moaning softly when she took him to the back of her mouth, when she sucked and whined._

_“Love my cock, don't you, sweetheart?” he murmured, moving one hand from the desk to trail down her back and over her ass, then dipping down between her legs again to rub at her clit._

_She moaned in answer, spreading her legs for him, sucking sloppily around his length._

She was getting close, rubbing hard against her clit as she moaned around the fingers in her mouth.

She moaned again as her pussy clenched around nothing, wishing to be filled the way her mouth was, making her dip her fingers into her wet heat for relief. It wasn't as coordinated, grinding the heel of her palm against her clit as her fingers rocked and curled against her inside, but she was close enough that it still felt so good.

_“You’re going to come with me, aren't you, baby?” he purred, his hips getting faster, his fingers rubbing relentlessly against her clit, making her whine and shake._

_She squeezed his hips in answer, swallowing and sucking as they both creeped closer and closer to their end._

Rey slid her fingers back up to her clit with a squirm, wet and slippery from her own arousal, seconds away from the edge and desperate to get there.

_“Come on, Rey, be a good girl, show me how pretty you come with your mouth full of cock.”_

Just a few more frantic rubs of her fingers and Rey peaked with a muffled cry, clenching and arching as pleasure pulsed through her cunt.

_He came with her, filling her mouth with cum, spurting hot and bitter over her tongue as she swallowed again and again around him, taking him all down until there was nothing left._

_He moaned so beautifully, head hanging down even as his fingers kept her pleasure coming as long as she could take it._

_When he pulled out of her mouth with a whimper, he dropped to his knees in front of her, burying both hands in her hair to keep her head up for a kiss._

_“Perfect,” he husked the word against her lips. “Perfect, Rey.”_

Her fingers slipped out of her mouth wetly, wiping them carelessly in her shirt as she cupped her mound with her other hand, still tingly and warm from her orgasm.

She really needed to get cleaned up before Rose got back. She should change into her pajamas, do her nightly routine, get into bed and try to read some more for class, or failing that, maybe watch something on Netflix to wind down.

Her mind lingered for a few minutes more on the mental image of him kissing her, his huge hands cradling her head and those deliciously plush lips pressed against hers.

She sighed, finally pulling her hand out of her underwear and sitting up.

Maybe sometime before the semester was over she’d find a way to at least talk to him, though she knew her more scandalous daydreams were a pipe dream.


	2. Chapter 2

Her window of opportunity came about in a way she did not expect.

She was having a restless night. She was a light sleeper to begin with, but some nights were just so fraught with restless energy or unsettling dreams that getting more than a couple of hours before jerking awake again was an impossibility.

She gave up around 6am, throwing the covers off with a huff of annoyance and getting up to get dressed in her workout clothes, doing her best not to disturb Rose where she was asleep on the other side of the room.

Her normal time to hit the gym was closer to 8, which usually worked out well for her in terms of gym busyness; too early for the average student to bother, and also right when many of the early bird classes started. She couldn’t imagine it would be very busy at 6am either.

Then she passed the outdoor track, and recognized the lone figure jogging around it instantly.

It was ridiculous, how her heart leapt into her throat. She couldn’t believe she was seeing _this_ ; seeing her smartly dressed, impeccable, beautiful English Lit teacher in a black sweatsuit, going around the campus track at an easy jog.

She watched him until he was on the other side of the track, biting her lip as she considered. Fuck it.

She went down the stairs leading to the track, shaking the nervousness out of her hands and trying to take deep breaths as she started up her own pace. With his long legs, he would easily outpace her in the next few minutes, giving her some time to collect herself, possibly think of something to say.

It was kind of ridiculous, that she imagined riding this man’s cock on a regular basis, but the idea of actually having an interaction with him outside of the classroom was daunting to her.

When she eventually heard the sound of his deep breaths a few yards behind her, Rey forced herself to keep her eyes forward.

“On your left,” she heard him pant, warning her to stay out of his path, and Rey couldn’t help but turn to look at him as he reached her.

He glanced at her as he passed, then did a double take, Rey’s heart pounding furiously in a way that had nothing to do with the light jog she was maintaining.

“Miss Johnson,” he said with surprise, slowing his pace to jog beside her. Rey’s heart threatened to explode.

“Good morning, sir.” Her voice was far breathier than she thought it would be, but she managed to give him a smile. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“I could say the same.” He arched an eyebrow. “I’ve never seen you out here in the mornings.”

Rey shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep, figured I might as well do something productive.”

“I see. And working on your paper wasn’t one of them?”

His mouth turned up at the corners, and Rey’s face flushed. She could blame it on the exercise, at least.

“Have I ever tried to turn a paper in late?”

“No, but I can tell when an assignment has been written the night before it’s due.”

She considered tripping him. He was extraordinarily lucky she found him so attractive.

“With all due respect, I’ve given up trying to get an A with you, sir. Literary analysis is not my forte, aerodynamics is.”

He didn’t seem very happy with that answer, but Rey wasn’t going to apologize for it. Surely he must have been aware that most of his students in that particular class were only there because it was a requirement, not because they had any actual interest in the topic.

“Indeed,” was all he replied, turning his head back to look at the track instead of her, and Rey bit her lip, looking forward as well.

To her surprise, he didn’t excuse himself and pull away, didn’t go back to the brisk pace he had been keeping until he had slowed to talk to her.

He just stayed, maintaining her steady pace with her as she ran her customary three miles.

She risked another glance his way here and there, covertly scanning her eyes over him. Was it possible for this man to _ever_ not look delicious?

As they rounded the curve of her final lap, she tugged on his sleeve a little to get his attention. She swallowed thickly when he turned to look at her, lips parted as he panted.

“I’m wrapping up,” she huffed out between quick breaths, slowing her pace so she could do a final, relaxed walk to cool down. He nodded, slowing with her, to her very deep surprise.

She spent half the lap trying to get her breath back and stealing glances at him every few minutes, his dark hair even darker with sweat and his profile in sharp relief against the grey, cloudy morning.

“I have office hours for a reason, you know.”

The statement seemed out of the blue, and Rey looked at him with furrowed eyebrows.

“You said you’ve given up trying to get an A in my class. I have office hours for a reason, Miss Johnson; it’s so students can get help if they need it. If you wish me to aid your understanding my assignments, you can make an appointment with me.”

Rey almost didn’t trust herself to speak. How on earth could she actually make an appointment with him, when she had fantasized about being bent over his desk and fucked within an inch of her life for half the semester?

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she managed to say, somehow keeping her voice steady and calm. “Thank you, sir.”

He nodded, sliding his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

As they neared the stairs, Rey knew their little bubble of isolation was drawing to a close.

“Have a good day, Professor Solo.” She smiled at him, taking a couple backwards steps toward the student dorms, and for the first time, he graced her with a tiny smile in return that made Rey’s heart flutter.

“And you, Miss Johnson.”

***

She didn't make an appointment with him at his office. Partially because she didn't trust herself not to be a blushing idiot about it, and partially because it would then put her in a position where she would be expected to talk about English Lit with him.

To be fair, she loved hearing him speak on the subject; he was interesting and passionate and made her give new thought to the books they were reading. The idea of having to actually offer her own thoughts in return, though, and seeing the inevitable frown that he did when he completely disagreed with someone’s ideas... that she could do without. There was a reason she avoided raising her hand in class.

Plus it would just be so... limiting. He would expect them to stay on topic, to discuss the class and the assignments, and Rey wanted more than that. She wanted to know what a man like him did for _fun_ , for example. He couldn’t just be exercise and books 24/7.

The exercise was a good place to start, though. She waited a little while before putting her plan into action. It was delicate work, this, couldn’t be too aggressive or obvious.

6am was not as forgiving as it had been the previous occasion, her body confused as to why she was getting up almost two hours earlier than she normally did without provocation.

 _It’ll be worth it just to see him sweaty and muscle-y,_ she reminded herself as she wearily pulled on her workout clothes, then slid her feet into her sneakers.

Unfortunately, that morning decided it was a good day to rain.

There was a chance he would still run the track in the inclement weather, but she sincerely hoped not; the idea of running in the cold rain for three miles sounded utterly miserable as a prospect, especially when there was a perfectly dry campus gym.

She peeked out from under her umbrella as she walked by the track, relieved to see it empty. There was a chance that meant he had skipped out on a run altogether that morning, but she had a sneaking suspicion that wasn’t the case. She hoped not, anyway.

Her student ID let her into the dry campus fitness center, and she stored her wet umbrella and jacket in a locker before going out onto the floor.

He was lifting weights. He was wearing a black, slim t-shirt and black sweatpants, and he was _fucking lifting weights_. Rationally, she knew he must, that gorgeous body didn’t just happen on its own, but she never thought she’d actually _see_ it.

She tried to be subtle, despite the warm flush that suddenly overtook her, her panties considerably damper than they had been a few moments ago. He hadn’t seen her, his head down as he focused, and she quickly shuffled over to one of the rowing machines.

She watched him move from the free weights to the machines, giving dedicated focus to every muscle group, and thank god Rey had the excuse of her own workout to mask her flush.

She could see the sweat shining on his arms and neck, his muscles bunching and shifting under his shirt captivatingly. He still didn’t seem to have noticed her, too absorbed in his own task to pay much attention to the very small handful of students using the gym at that ungodly hour.

It left Rey free to watch, keeping a very leisurely pace on the rowing machine and trying not to squeeze her thighs together too obviously.

 _Hot-for-teacher weirdo._ Rose’s voice chimed in the back of her mind, reminding her that she should feel at least a little guilty for creeping on her professor at the gym. He was her _teacher_ , and had to be at least ten years her senior, and probably would feel uncomfortable if he realized his student was ogling him and getting wet in her knickers.

She just couldn’t stop, he was too beautiful, it was actually stupid how much she wanted to run her hands over the thick cut of his muscles.

Then, _then!_ , he had the audacity to stand up from one of the machines and grab the hem of his shirt, pulling it up to wipe the sweat from his face.

Rey nearly lost her grip she was so shocked, her eyes ravenously looking at the exposed flesh until he dropped the shirt again. He didn’t look like the guys on the covers of men’s health magazines, the kind of guys who worked to make each individual ab stand out like tiny hills on the plane of their stomachs. He was just _solid_ , the definition of his abdominal muscles etched lightly down either side of his belly and his waist just strong, thick muscle.

She had never desired to wrap her legs around someone the way she wanted to wrap her legs around him.

A moment later, he rolled his neck and shoulders, and finally noticed her.

He seemed to balk for a second before regaining his composure, and Rey gave her head a little upward jerk of mute acknowledgement, unsure if her heart was racing because of her continued movement on the rowing machine or the thrill of finding his eyes on her.

A second later, it was definitely the latter, as he made his way over through the rows of equipment.

“The weather chase you inside today?” she asked him, proud when her voice didn’t waver.

He nodded, sitting on the rowing machine next to her but not starting it.

She nodded back, faithfully continuing her rowing as he used his sleeve this time to wipe his face, to her disappointment.

“Straighten your back further when you pull back,” he suddenly said, catching Rey off guard. “Engage your core more, or your back is going to hurt.”

She followed his instruction with a quick swallow, and he nodded with approval. “Good.”

It was stupid, how such simple praise from his lips made her skin feel warm and her pussy throb with want, turning her knees to noodles. Thank god he hadn’t tacked “girl” onto the end, or she may have moaned out loud.

She let the seat slide forward, letting go of the handle and shaking out her hands before twisting a little, leaning back on the metal beam with one hand and raising an eyebrow.

“Secret life as a fitness coach, Professor?” she asked, only a bit breathless, and a little corner of his mouth quirked up.

“Hardly. Rowing just happens to be in my corner.”

“Please tell me it’s from actually being on a rowing team, not from consuming a freakish amount of sports anime like my friends Rose and Finn?”

He chortled in surprise, a subtle half smile flashing across his mouth, sending Rey’s heart into a flutter.

“Yes, rowing team.”

Wasn't _that_ a delicious thought.

He frowned, eyebrows drawn together. “Is there an actual rowing team anime?”

Rey laughed, throwing her hands up in a shrug. “I wouldn’t doubt it. My friends are obsessed with an anime about a swim team, so it wouldn’t surprise me.”

“Ah yes, I think I’m vaguely aware of that one. ‘Free!’ I think it’s called?”

“Do I even want to know how you know that?”

He rolled his eyes with a long-suffering sigh.

“Halloween last year. I had half of our swim team in my Shakespeare class. I had to kick them out for refusing to wear shirts and trying to reenact the show using Old English.”

She couldn’t help it, she burst out laughing, the mental image of him shouting at a bunch of anime cosplaying swimmers absolutely hilarious.

“No offense, sir, but that’s fucking _amazing_ ,” she giggled. “And honestly, to hear Rose and Finn talk about it, the drama of most animes rivals Shakespeare’s, easily.”

“So I understand.”

There it was again, that hint of a smile. She’d get a full one from him yet. Better yet, she’d get a proper _laugh_. She was determined.

“You totally went and watched ‘Free!’ after that, didn’t you?” she asked with a smirk.

He gave her a look with a raised eyebrow, making her grin wider.

“It’s okay, sir, I won’t tell anyone.”

“ _No_ , Miss Johnson, I did not. I witness enough teen drama with the freshmen in my classes, I don’t really need to include it in my entertainment choices.”

“What do you prefer, then?”

He took a long breath in, then out, looking at her with scrutiny. Rey felt like she was under a microscope, but she forced herself to maintain her unaffected gaze at him.

“You’re asking me what shows I like to watch?” he finally asked, as if he didn’t quite trust that he had grasped her question correctly.

“For a start. Anything you entertain yourself with when you’re not standing in front of the classroom, really.”

He was scrutinizing her again, and she began to wonder if anyone had ever asked him that question before, improbable as that sounded. Or if it was just the fact that it was a student of his that was asking.

“I enjoy a good political drama.”

“ _West Wing_ type stuff?”

He nodded, and she grinned.

“I can see that. You seem the type.”

“Meaning?”

“You’re obviously a smart man, you expect smart entertainment, that’s all. Political drama tends to fall into that category.”

“What about you, Miss Johnson?”

She had not been expecting him to turn the question back onto her; she hadn’t really expected him to answer her in the first place, let alone seem interested in what she had to say. But now that he was looking at her expectantly, seemingly ready to listen and engage with whatever she had to offer, and Rey’s mind went unhelpfully blank for a moment.

“Uh, well, can’t deny I’m a sci-fi fan. Might be the reason I hope to work for NASA someday.”

“Is it cliche of me to assume _Star Trek_ type shows?”

“It might be cliche, but it is true. Yes, _Star Trek_ , among others.”

“The original, or the various spin offs?”

“All of them? Don’t get me wrong, the original series is fantastic, it was the genesis of so much pop culture sci-fi, but the spin offs are all quite good too. I’m not afraid to confess that I’m mildly in love with Captain Janeway from _Voyager._ ”

That half smile returned, and she pointed a finger at him with narrowed eyes and a smirk.

“Don’t you judge me, Professor Solo. _Star Trek_ is one of the most hopeful, humanitarian shows in existence and I will not be shamed for loving it. Nor will I be shamed for admiring _Star Trek_ ’s lone, badass female captain.”

“I’m not shaming you. I was mildly in love with B’Elanna Torres when I watched _Voyager_ , so it would be very hypocritical of me.”

If Rey hadn’t been in love with him before, she sure as fuck was now; her face was going to split if she smiled any wider.

“Qapla’!” she laughed, bringing her right fist across her chest to thump her left shoulder; a Klingon salute.

He chortled again, looking at the floor with a little shake of his head and a sigh. “I hate that I know what that means.”

She tsked, crossing her arms and shaking her head. “You bring dishonor to the Empire with your shame.”

He raised his head again, looking at her with amusement, and his soft, closed-mouth smile made her heart flutter.

“Hey, are you two done with the rowing machines?”

The question broke the moment, and Rey internally cursed the shirtless dudebro who had asked it.

“Yes,” Professor Solo acknowledged, standing up and stepping out of the way before giving Rey a nod.

“I’ll see you in class, Miss Johnson.”

“See you in class, sir.”

She watched him retreat toward the locker rooms, trailing her eyes down his strong, broad back to his fantastic ass, thinking about their conversation.

That secret nerd. He liked to act like he was entirely about the refined, sophisticated books he taught to his classes, but in just that short conversation she had gleaned a look at the geek within.

She glanced at the wall clock. She needed to get back to her dorm, take a shower, and maybe coax Rose to come with her to the cafeteria for breakfast before heading to class.

She thought about him the whole way back to the dorm; about the glimpse of his bare torso she had gotten when he pulled his shirt up, about how much she wanted to run her hands and mouth all over him.

It was honestly ridiculous, how hot it got her, at just the little peek of his skin and the sight of him working out, muscles shifting and bulging as he got all sexily sweaty.

Rey bit her lip as she stepped under the spray of the shower, squeezing her legs together. She probably shouldn’t. There was bound to be other girls coming in to shower before class soon, and she really needed to stay on schedule too.

She washed efficiently, trying to think about her advanced physics homework instead of him, with practically nonexistent results.

“Fuck, I have to,” she whispered softly to herself, rinsing the soap off before leaning against the freezing tiles, a sharp contrast to the steamy spray of water still raining down on her.

She slipped her hand between her legs, biting her lip and determined to be quiet.

_The water poured down his body in rivulets, following the path of his muscles and dripping through his dark hair._

_He hummed when she stepped up behind him, sliding her arms around his thick, strong waist as she pressed kisses to his wet back._

_“Didn’t spend all your energy lifting weights today, did you?” she murmured cheekily, standing on her toes to trail kisses up his shoulder._

_He turned, the glint of a challenge in his eye, and the next thing Rey knew she was being hoisted up into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist._

_“You tell me,” he murmured, pressing her against the tile._

Rey bit her lip, willing herself to be silent, even if the water would drown out most of her quieter noises. There would be no teasing today, no slow build. Just efficient, tight circles against her clit; just a bit of relief before she had to face Professor Solo again in class.

_“Hurry up,” she murmured to him, kissing his wet lips with a soft moan, “we’re going to be late.”_

_He gave a low laugh, ducking his head to nibble her neck as his cock pressed against her entrance._

_“Say please,” he purred teasingly, and Rey shivered._

_“Please, Ben,” she whispered._

She worked both hands between her legs, three fingers pushing inside her wet cunt as her other hand worked her clit, suppressing her pants and moans as best she could. It would only be a few moments more, she had been turned on for so long already, so ridiculously hot from the sight of his flexing muscles it was practically cliche.

_He felt so good, thick and heavy, perfect as he grunted and growled, his hands holding her tight as he bounced her on his dick. The wet sound of her pussy mixed with the wet slap of their skin, visceral and primal, and she pushed a hand between them to rub her clit with a long moan._

_“So good,” she murmured to him, her arm tight around his shoulders, her clenched fist pressed into his shifting muscles. “So good, Ben, fuck, always want you fucking me.”_

_He moaned, and a shift of his hips with a trail of bites down her neck was all it took to push her the rest of the way there with a cry._

Rey bit her lip, curling her fingers just right to make pleasure ricochet through her pelvis, clenching and fluttering as she came in a hot rush.

She caught her breath with closed eyes, stepping back under the spray of water and floating lazily in the afterglow. Fuck 6am, but goddamn it was going to be worth it if she got to get wound up like that over watching him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm impatient, so I'm putting this up a day earlier than I planned.

The slow crawl of the semester carried on, and at least once a week, Rey found a way to match her morning work out with his.

Whether or not he realized it was purposeful she couldn’t tell, but he _did_ always allow her presence, which gave her a granule of hope.

She didn’t know when he actually started his mornings, as she refused, even for him, to work out before 6am, and he was always there before her. On the track, in the gym, she would always arrive when he was halfway through his workout.

And it always gave her so much imagination fodder. The tension of his muscles as he moved, the flush down his face and neck, the shine of his sweat; it all just stirred her imagination, cultivating what he would look like on his back under her, tensing and arching as she sank down onto him again and again. Or up on his arms on top of her, using the leverage of his hands on the bed to drive into her that much harder, watching her tits bounce with each powerful thrust.

It wasn’t the best part, though. Sure, watching him be all sweaty and sexy was a great treat for her mornings and a gift to her wank material, but it wasn’t the most satisfying result of dragging her ass out of bed at the crack of dawn; talking to him was.

She learned that he liked British television and nature documentaries, his enjoyment of sci-fi did not end with _Star Trek_ , and he was a season ticket holder at the local theatre.

He also seemed to actually care about what she had to say. Rey lost count of how many laps around the track they did one morning, just at a mellow walk after their run, talking passionately about time travel.

He listened to her talk about the theoretical physics of it, asking her questions and listening respectfully to her answers, both of them weaving talk about their favorite time travel fiction and how realistic or not it was into the flow of conversation.

They talked so long they were late for class- _his_ class, both of them hurrying from the track to rush to their respective homes for quick showers when they realized the time. It was almost comical, each of them showing up to class ten minutes late with shower-wet hair and guilty expressions.

The class was buzzing with soft, conspiratorial whispers, and Rey hid her smirk behind her fingers as she tried to nonchalantly perch her chin on her hand, watching him hurriedly get his desk organized.

“Right!” his voice boomed over the din. “Enough noise, you have a quiz today!”

Groans rippled through the room as he started handing out the quiz, and Rey took it from him with a sheepish smile.

They moved on to the lecture when everyone handed their quizzes in, and Rey was distracted by the slow dry of his thick hair, wishing she could run her fingers through it. It dried wavier than she was used to seeing it, which made her wonder if he typically used a product or a hairdryer that he had been forced to skip that morning.

“Have a good day, Professor Solo,” she said it to him with her normal smile, and got the ghost of one in return.

“And you, Miss Johnson.”

***

_“You are very distracting,” he murmured against her neck, his hands flat on the wood on either side of her hips._

_Rey smirked, sitting on his desk in his office, her cute little sundress fanned demurely over her crossed legs._

_“Speak for yourself, sir,” she replied cheekily, stroking her hands down his chest warmly, enjoying the soft hum he pressed against her throat in response._

_“So mouthy.” One of his hands shifted from the desk to her side, sliding slowly up to her ribs, then trailing his thumb under her breast. “I was going to get you off, but perhaps I should reconsider.”_

_“I compliment you, and you reconsider? The cruelty.”_

_“Oh yes, I’m very cruel to you,” he purred, squeezing her breast through the fabric of her dress as he bit softly at her neck, making her gasp. “Insufferably, intolerably cruel.”_

_“Definitely,” she whispered, dragging her hands back up his chest. “It’s cruel of you to look so gorgeous while trying to lecture about heroic symbolism.”_

_He laughed, low and sultry, making goosebumps break out over her skin._

_“While you cross your legs and bite your lip to torture me?”_

_“I wouldn’t have to if you didn’t look so good. It’s vicious circle.”_

_“Well then,” he murmured, suddenly sinking to his knees, “let’s break that, shall we?”_

_He pushed her dress up her thighs, kissing her knee as he coaxed her legs apart, already sending Rey’s belly into a flutter of anticipation._

_“Look at you,” he said softly, gazing at her pink, lacy panties with a little smile. “Are these pretty panties just for me?”_

_“Yes,” she breathed, sinking her fingers into his hair with a little shiver, captivated by the way he looked, on his knees and seeming for all the world like there was no place he’d rather be. “It’s all for you.”_

_His eyes flicked up to hers as he kissed along her thigh, moving closer to her center with every brush of his lips._

_“Yes,” he whispered, “all mine.”_

_Rey shivered, the heat thick in his voice and in his eyes undeniable and so fucking sexy. It was so hot, having this man- this powerful, strong, dominating man- on his knees, ready to worship her with his mouth and hands and gaze._

_He tugged on the edge of her panties, making her lift her hips so he could slide them down her legs, and it didn’t go unnoticed by her that he put them securely in his pocket. Fuck, she was not getting those back today. Then a soft growl, and he was pulling her closer to the edge of the desk, hiking her thighs up onto his shoulders as his teasing look shifted to one of hunger._

_“Oh god,” she breathed, the first touch of his tongue firm and flat, sending shivers up her spine._

_He groaned, settling back on his heels a little more, like he was getting comfortable, like he was completely prepared to spend hours right where he was. Another slow lick, then a firm press of his mouth, his soft groan of contentment almost as good as the gentle, random pattern he was painting with the tip of his tongue._

_Rey watched greedily, watched his lips plush against her as his tongue moved, sending sparks of pleasure through her pussy like electricity._

_“Fuck,” she breathed, thighs twitching under his hands, hitching her hips into every swipe of his tongue. “Fuck, Ben, that’s so good.”_

_He gave a soft moan, fingers flexing on her legs, the swirl of his tongue getting faster, harder._

_She squirmed, panting and clenching, fingers digging into his hair with a whine. He let go of one leg with a groan, pushing two fingers inside her easily, effortlessly; with the way she was wet and eager, taking the thick penetration was nothing but pleasure._

_“Fuck,” she said again, the pleasurable pressure building, tingling through her pelvis and up her spine, curling in every stroke of his fingers and rub of his tongue._

_Just the right pressure, just the right place, and she jerked with a soft cry. He let out another soft moan, immediately shifting his focus to doing it again and again, driving her mad in record time with frantic flicks of his tongue and the perfect rub of his fingers._

Rey pressed the pillow down harder on her face, barely able to breathe under the stifling fabric and the hard clench of her whole body as she came.

It was 2am, Rose was sound asleep in the bed across the room, and Rey wanted to keep it that way; even when her vivid imagination wouldn’t let her stop thinking of him until she stuffed a hand into her sleep shorts and got herself off.

She bit back a whimper, grinding the heel of her palm against her clit when the direct rub of her fingers became too much, still needing the pressure to help her come down, help her ride out of the fluttering spasms of her cunt.

“Fuck,” she cursed in a whisper into her pillow, finally going limp against the bed and moving the pillow away from her face to take a deep breath of fresh air with relief.

Across the room, Rose gave a soft little snuffle of sleep, and Rey swiped her hair away from her face.

Fuck, this was getting out of hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is a short one, but the next chapter is a lot longer and more exciting to make up for it.
> 
> Also THANK YOU to everyone who has commented, kudo-ed, and subscribed so far! I'm not good about answering every comment directly, but know that I still love EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU. <3 (Yes, YOU.)
> 
> I'm also planning on releasing a new chapter every Sunday and Wednesday going forward. If that changes I'll probably announce it on my tumblr, so stay tuned, thirsty friends. <3


	4. Chapter 4

Late October rolled around, and things spiraled sideways.

There was a movie theater in town that was showing the _National Theatre Live_ production of _Frankenstein_ ; a gorgeous play adaptation of the original novel starring Benedict Cumberbatch and Jonny Lee Miller that Rey absolutely loved.

Professor Solo apparently did too.

He was looking at his phone before the show started, seemingly reading something, and Rey climbed the stairs with a little smile.

She didn’t say anything to him, just shrugged off her jacket and invited herself into the seat right next to him to see what he’d do.

To her amusement, he looked up from his phone with a scowl, clearly ready to ask her what on earth she was doing when there was a _whole theater_ of empty seats. Then he realized it was her, and the annoyed expression dropped immediately, changing of one to surprise.

“What are you doing here?” he asked instead, making Rey laugh as she crossed her legs and settled her little bag of popcorn onto her lap.

“Seeing the movie, what do you think?”

Was he blushing? Was that a _blush_ on her stoic teacher’s cheeks?

“Obviously,” he sighed dryly, “I just meant... I’m surprised to see you.”

“Obviously,” she smirked.

He cleared his throat, giving her a look out of the corner of his eye before sliding his phone into his pocket.

He was still in a deep purple dress shirt and dark grey slacks, with a matching suit jacket draped on the back of the chair behind him. It made Rey wonder if he ever actually dressed casually, or if the only clothes he owned were dress clothes and workout clothes.

Or, she suddenly realized, she was an idiot and he was dressed for a date.

“Shit, are you... waiting for someone?” she tentatively asked, telling her sad, jealous heart to shut the fuck up.

“No,” he said simply, his eyebrows furrowed in mild confusion.

“Oh, okay. Good.” She nodded. “Sorry, I just wanted to make sure, since I kind of invited myself to sit with you. Unless, uh, you don’t want me to?”

“As long as you don’t talk during the show, I don’t mind.”

“I won’t talk,” Rey promised, then gave him a little smile. “Though I may possibly sniffle a little. The Creature’s conversation with Elizabeth gets me every time.”

“Have you seen this production before?” he asked.

Rey nodded again with a wider smile. “I’ve seen it every year I could find a showing. I read the book when I was a junior in high school, and this is by far my favorite adaptation. What about you?”

“Sadly I hadn’t had a chance to see it until now.”

“Ooo!” Rey chirped. “That’s exciting! You’re going to like it, I just know it.”

He gave her a little smile, then the theater lights dimmed, drawing their attention to the screen.

Thank god she had seen it before, because she could not stop throwing little glances his way. It was so different, seeing him like this; the soft light from the screen casting his features into shadow, his posture more relaxed than she had ever seen it before.

She took advantage of their proximity and need for quiet to lean into him slightly, their arms pressed together while she offered him her little bag of popcorn.

“Like some?” she whispered, watching his profile from this close making her heart flutter.

His eyes flicked from the screen to her, then down to the proffered bag before returning to her face.

“Thank you,” he said softly, taking a small handful before returning his attention to the play.

“Help yourself to more, if you want,” she added, taking a couple pieces for herself and popping them into her mouth.

She used the popcorn as an excuse to stay close to him, her arm against his on the armrest. It was almost easy to pretend she was welcome to do so, that this was a date and they were flirting with little touches and shared glances. She wished so fervently that it was, that she could be so bold as to lean her head against his shoulder, wrap her arm through his or entwine their fingers.

But it wasn’t, so she didn’t, contenting herself with the press of his arm against hers on the armrest and stolen looks.

Rey liked the fact that when they aired the _National Theatre Live_ productions, they kept the intermission in. It was a nice opportunity to stretch, use the restroom if you needed to, get something from the concession stand. As the curtain closed on act one, the house lights came on and Rey crumpled up her empty bag of popcorn before getting up to stretch.

She twisted at the waist, cracking her lower back and looking over her shoulder at him with a little smile.

“What do you think so far?”

“It’s very good,” he nodded, standing up as well before rolling his neck with a sigh. “Cumberbatch’s physicality is quite remarkable.”

“Right?! That’s why I love him as the Creature so much, he’s so _in it_. Miller does well too, he nails Victor’s cold scientist vibe.”

“And his sullen, broody moron vibe.”

Rey laughed, and a soft little smile creeped across his mouth as well.

“That too. I love this story, but Victor is such an emo fuckboy. This punk-ass undergrad defies death itself, then runs away from what he’s done with his tail between his legs to wax poetic about his remorse. He would have been a MySpace sensation.”

Rey was shocked when it was _that_ ridiculous ramble that finally got a real, honest-to-god laugh out of him, her heart immediately soaring with delight.

 _Fuck_ he was so charming, dimples and little crinkles in the corners of his eyes, imperfect teeth peeking from between his plush lips and the _sound_ ; warm and low and sending her pulse into a flutter.

“Well, you certainly pull no punches.”

Rey shrugged with a wide smirk. “I don’t really think he was meant to be sympathetic, so I don’t feel too bad about it.”

He hummed, his smile closed-mouthed now as he tilted his head in acknowledgement, amusement still dancing in his eyes as he looked at her.

It was a look that could convince butter to melt, she was sure of it, and it was certainly having that exact effect on her heart.

“I'm going to run to the restroom,” she said, her voice only wavering slightly, “I’ll be right back.”

He nodded, and Rey pulled herself together as she hurried down the stairs and out into the lobby.

She used the restroom, then looked at herself in the mirror as she washed her hands. She was flushed, her cheeks rosy along with her neck, and she quickly splashed cold water on her face before patting it dry. It helped, but only slightly, and she sighed as she finger combed her hair.

He was still standing when she returned, looking at his phone, and it reminded Rey to check hers as well.

There was a text from Finn, which she read with a little smile.

_I hope you’re enjoying your movie. Rose is currently sobbing into my shoulder over her Sailor Moon rewatch._

Rey chortled, typing out a reply.

_What part made her cry?_

_Nephrite_

_VALID TEARS_

Finn sent her back both a cry emoji as well as a laugh, making Rey smile.

_Back to the movie! Make sure Rose stays hydrated through her tears._

_Will do. Have fun!_

She replied with a small string of hearts, then slid her phone back into her pocket before sitting back down.

Professor Solo was still looking at his phone, pecking away at an email, by the looks of it, and Rey took the opportunity to subtly rake her eyes down his back and very nice ass.

He sat back down too after a moment, slipping his phone away.

Rey raised an eyebrow when something crinkled in his jacket pocket when he leaned back against it, and even he frowned in confusion as he sat up again, twisting to push his hand in and retrieve whatever it was.

“Oh!” he said with surprise as he pulled out a packet of what appeared to be candy of some kind. “I forgot I brought this.”

He sat back again as he opened it, and Rey couldn’t hide her disbelief as he pulled out a length of black licorice and bit into it.

“Good god, Solo, are you some kind of monster? Who on earth likes black licorice?”

She was only partially teasing, and he gave her an offended glare as he aggressively took another bite.

“I do,” he said defiantly.

She gave a dramatic shudder, and he snorted.

“Well, good thing I didn’t intend to offer you any, isn’t it?”

She threw him a sideways smirk, which was met with a narrow-eyed look from the corner of his eye that was just far too sexy for its own good.

A moment later and the house lights dimmed, signaling the end of the intermission.

Act two was as good as she remembered, and she did in fact get teary eyed when Elizabeth spoke to the Creature; one of his few kind interactions in the whole play.

She could feel Professor Solo look at her, watching her grimace when the Creature decided to go through with his plan to hurt her anyway, and Rey’s flinch when she was killed.

When the play ended, Rey leaned her head back on her seat with a sigh, then tilted her gaze to the side to look at him. She smiled when he looked back at her, raising her eyebrows questioningly.

“Well? Opinion?”

“Certainly a close adaptation to the original novel, I agree with you on that. It was excellent.”

“I knew you had good taste,” she sighed, reaching her hands up over her head and looking at the ceiling with half closed eyes, arching her back in a long stretch. “Minus your gross old man candy.”

“You know, despite this theater being off campus, I am still your professor, you might want to dial back your insults.”

Rey let her arms drop to the back of the chair behind her head with a laugh, digging her fingers into the upholstery as she looked at him again.

It occurred to her that she had all but forgotten his reputation as a scary, tough English professor. He wasn't intimidating to her, hadn’t been since their first _Star Trek_ conversation at the gym, when it had become abundantly clear to her that he did a very good job of pretending to be an insufferable hardass in his professional life, but there was a gentleness inside him that no one else seemed to be bothering to look for.

“I’m just teasing you sir, I promise.” She grinned; then, because apparently she was crazy- “I'll still respect you in the morning.”

His eyes widened and his cheeks pinked, making heat creep up the back of Rey’s neck but a sinful kind of pride bloom in her chest. She was being recklessly obvious, grinning at him with her arms still over her head and her back in a relaxed arch.

Then a theater usher cleared his throat, drawing their attention to him.

“I’d, um, like to clean your row?” he said, making Rey realize they were the last ones in the theater, the short credits following the play long over.

“Right,” Professor Solo said, clearing his own throat and standing.

Rey followed, biting her lip with a bit of disappointment as she pulled her jacket from the back of her chair and slid it on.

Professor Solo was kind enough to collect her empty popcorn bag, crushing it in his big hand along with the wrapper from his licorice and throwing it away as he followed her out of the theater.

It was chilly now, the temperature most certainly dropped since she had arrived. Rey shivered as the wind whipped sharp through her jacket, making her reflexively pull it tighter around her.

“Damn, it got cold.” She shivered again, shaking the sleeves down over her hands before shoving them in her pockets.

“Don’t tell me you walked here?” he asked, his eyebrows drawn together in obvious concern that made Rey feel warm despite another chilly gust kicking up.

“No, the student shuttle stop is up around the corner, they should have a couple more running tonight.”

The wind whipped his hair around as he nodded, biting the corner of his lip thoughtfully, and Rey clenched her hands in her pockets to fight the urge to reach up and smooth it away from his face.

“Let me stand with you until the shuttle arrives,” he offered, looking at her intently. “I want to make sure you get back alright.”

Rey wanted to hug him; the only other guy who had ever worried about her walking at night was Finn. It wasn’t like Rey couldn’t handle herself, she carried pepper spray in her jacket and knew basic, dirty fighting tactics that would get her out of most altercations, but it was still nice when someone cared about her safety enough to want her not to have to use them.

“That would be really nice, thank you,” she murmured, trying not to let it show how moved she was by his offer, giving him a little smile before adding, “Who says chivalry is dead?”

He gave her a tiny chortle, letting her lead the way to the shuttle stop at a leisurely pace.

“I don’t think many people would agree with you ascribing ‘chivalry’ to me.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’ve been informed by many people over the years that I’m an asshole.”

It was shockingly frank, and pulled a startled laugh out of her that she didn’t entirely mean to allow.

“Sorry,” she apologized, looking at his profile as they walked. “I just didn’t really expect you to say that.”

He gave a wry little smile. “It’s alright. It’s alright if you agree, too, I know it’s true.”

It saddened her, that he carried that opinion of himself. She could understand why people said it, Rose had said it constantly last semester when she had been in his class, and still said it now whenever Rey would get hearts in her eyes talking about him.

As a teacher, he had a short fuse, had no problem dishing out scathing comments during class, and was unapologetically unsympathetic in his handling of student grades. She got it, why people called him an asshole, and maybe he kind of was, if she was being honest.

“You’re not an asshole to me,” she said quietly instead, drawing his eyes from the pavement to her face, something guarded about his expression.

“So far you haven’t given me a reason to be.”

She could tell from his voice and the small pull at the corner of his mouth that he was trying to be flippant, but the teasing nature of his comment most certainly didn’t reach his eyes. There was something softer there, she was sure of it.

“And I don’t intend to,” she assured him anyway.

He pushed his hair out of his eyes before sliding his hands into his pockets; not that it did much good, the wind almost immediately messing it again. It was stupid, how dashing he looked; like he had just stepped out of a fashion photoshoot, his sharp clothes and artistically tousled hair. She wanted to trail her fingers down the front of his shirt, sliding each button out of its loop while she kissed his neck.

Rey’s attention was drawn from him as light and noise spilled out of the shop they were passing, and she glanced at it, realizing it was the local coffee shop.

“Care to stop for a coffee?” she asked, coming to a stop and jabbing her thumb toward the door. “I could use some caffeine for the homework I still have to do tonight.”

“Uh... sure,” he nodded distractedly, pulling his hand out of his pocket as she opened the door, taking it from her to hold it for them both as they walked in.

The warmth of the shop was a nice reprieve from the cold snap outside, and Rey inhaled the smell of coffee with satisfaction as they made their way to the counter.

She ordered a mocha latte while he opted for black coffee, then they stepped to the side to wait.

“So tell me, Professor, are you the type to lock your door and pretend you’re not home on Halloween?” she asked with a little smile, making him chortle.

“I did already acknowledge that I’m an asshole.”

“You could be an asshole with a soft spot for children in cute costumes.”

“If that was the case I’d be teaching in a middle school, not a university.”

Rey chuckled, shaking her head. “I’m going to assume you don’t have any children, then.”

He gave a snort. “Is there anything about me to suggest that I do?”

“Not one stitch.” She tilted her head. “No nieces or nephews?”

“I’m an only child.”

“Ah. Me too. Well... as far as I know.”

His eyebrows drew together slightly, and Rey gave a little shrug.

“I grew up in the foster system. I don’t even really know who my parents are, let alone if they had any other children. The language of the government records suggests that they were alcoholics, CPS called on them a few times when I was little until they just gave me up entirely. I don’t remember much about them, really.”

His reaction was fairly on par with most people’s, when she revealed her life story to them. Shock and upset flicked across his features, but where he deviated from the others was when he skipped right past discomfort and landed on anger.

“What pieces of shit,” he huffed, completely taking her aback. “My parents-”

He stopped, clenching his jaw as if he was struggling to keep the words inside, setting curiosity alight in her immediately.

“Doesn’t matter,” he finally mumbled instead, looking at the floor with a shake of his head. “The point is that they were shit, to do that to you. I’m sorry you had to endure that.”

“Thank you,” she said softly. He didn’t even know the rest of it; of the foster she ended up in, of Unkar, of his filthy smell and angry demands. Of the sweltering heat of a junk car in the middle of summer as she was forced to dismantle the scraps for his junkyard. She had had to have her mail held at the post office when she had applied to colleges and scholarships to hide it from him, had to take off on a Greyhound bus in the middle of the night to start her first semester, free for the first time in her life.

He nodded solemnly, the two of them just looking at each other for a moment.

“Here you go!” the barista chirped, holding out their coffees to them, breaking the moment.

Rey bit her lip, Professor Solo taking both coffees and handing hers to her with a closed-mouth smile.

“Thank you,” Rey murmured.

“Remind me how frequently these shuttles run?”

Rey checked the time on her phone. “At this time, I believe it’s every half hour, so it looks like about a fifteen minute wait. You don’t have to stay with me, sir, I can-”

He waved her off with a shake of his head. “I don’t mind, Miss Johnson, I wouldn’t have offered if I minded.”

She swallowed with a little nod.

“Thank you,” she murmured again, receiving an acknowledging nod in return.

Rey brought her coffee up to her mouth to take a sip as he moved to the side bar for cream, barely putting enough in to lighten it, which amused her for some reason. It just seemed very _him_ , to shy from sweeteners.

“Alright, Professor Solo, something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

He looked mildly apprehensive, raising his eyebrows as he put the lid back on his coffee.

“You sound very serious about it, whatever it is.”

Rey smirked, nodding sagely.

“Very. It determines a fair portion of what I think of you.”

He chortled, his eyebrows now moving to furrow slightly as he took a sip of his coffee and Rey took a seat near the door to wait for the shuttle.

“Well this should be interesting,” he murmured, sliding into the chair opposite hers and setting his coffee on the table.

“Your opinion on _The Catcher in the Rye_.”

He was clearly surprised that that was the topic she was curious about, and he seemed to be processing how to answer as he brought his drink to his lips again.

“It’s a book of literary importance. It was written by Salinger after he returned from World War II, and it’s dark satire-”

“Okay, but did you _like_ it?” Rey interrupted, leaning forward with her elbows on the table, her coffee between her hands.

He gave her a long look, no doubt trying to parse what answer she was hoping for, but she kept her face poker blank.

“I read it at least twice a year, every year of my high school career,” he confessed, playing with the cardboard sleeve of his coffee. “So yes, I like it.”

“Of course you do,” Rey sighed with an amused smile, shaking her head.

“Meaning?” he said, a defensive note in his voice.

“Meaning you’re a white dude who read it right as you were going into your rebellious teen phase, of course you like it.”

Sulky silence for a moment, his mouth opening then closing, then a deep frown as he let out a long sigh through his nose.

“That is not the book’s only demographic, you know. It’s about the restlessness of grief, of being disillusioned with life when one can no longer see the point of the trivial concerns most people wrap themselves up in.”

“Plenty of books do that, it doesn’t take an asshole wandering around New York City being pretentious to convey that message.”

“When was the last time you read _The Catcher in the Rye_?” he challenged, planting his forearms on the table and leaning forward, and Rey chortled.

“Sophomore year, I think?”

“Reread it, then we’ll talk.”

Rey laughed again, taking a sip of her coffee. “Not on your life. Caulfield is right up there next to Tom Sawyer on my ‘insufferable literary characters’ list. Why on earth would I put myself through that misery again?”

“Did you know _any_ adolescent boys growing up?”

“Of course I did. Maybe that’s the point, I hated dealing with them in real life, why on earth would I want to read a book where they do nothing but cause trouble and learn nothing? I saw that every day.”

He seemed exasperated, and she hid her snicker behind her coffee cup.

“Anyway, Rose will be thrilled to hear she was right.”

He quirked an eyebrow, and Rey gave a little laugh.

“We both hate it, for the record,” Rey shrugged, and he put his head down with a long sigh, making her laugh again. “But on one of the numerous occasions Rose complained about you last semester, ‘probably unironically loves _The Catcher in the Rye_ ’-” she did air quotes with her fingers, “-was one of the more amusing anecdotes.”

He raised his head with a thoughtful frown, staring at a spot on the table for a moment as he thought. “Rose...?”

“Tico? Cute Asian girl, most likely wore an _Inuyasha_ hoodie to every class? That was a common complaint too, the temperature of the room. She was very adamant that you picked the coldest room on campus to combat the demonic hellfire that filled your body.”

That got a startled laugh out of him, and Rey drank in the sound of it greedily, grinning happily at his amusement.

“Jesus, she really hates me, doesn’t she?”

“She thinks you’re too demanding, considering most of the students in the 101 English Lit class aren’t English majors and are only there because they have to be.”

“All the more reason to keep them on their toes,” he frowned with a huff. “Just because you won’t use literary analysis in your career doesn’t mean it can’t be an important skill for your worldview.”

Rey tilted her head with crinkle of her nose, and he glared.

“I’m not saying you’re wrong,” she placated, “but you do tend to be a bit cruel about it.”

“Yeah, well, I’m an asshole, remember? I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

“I think you do very well pretending to be an asshole, there’s a difference.”

She never knew how to feel, when he looked at her like that. Like she had surprised him, and he didn’t know what to do about it.

Rey wrapped both her hands around her coffee cup, leaning forward on her forearms, mirroring him. It almost made the backs of their fingers brush, the near-touching feeling like static electricity.

“I’m not sure how you got such a forgiving impression of me, Miss Johnson,” he eventually murmured. There was a bitterness in his words that Rey could almost taste in the air, and she gave him a soft little smile.

“You did most of the work,” she assured him. “You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

She brought her coffee to her lips, not looking away from the serious, almost contemplative look in his eyes.

Then he swallowed, and looked at his watch. “The shuttle should be here soon, we should go outside so we don’t miss it.”

Rey nodded, standing with him and following him out of the shop.

She could swear it had dropped a couple more degrees, and she took a big gulp of her coffee to combat it, the both of them walking the short distance left to the shuttle stop.

Silence for a moment, and Rey shivered as the wind swirled around them.

Professor Solo shuffled a little closer, shifting slightly, and Rey suddenly realized why; he was trying to shield her from the worst of the wind, putting himself between her and the gusts that kept whipping his hair into his face.

For someone who claimed to be an asshole, he was certainly being sweet to her.

“Any plans for the rest of your evening, Professor?” she decided to ask, and he shrugged.

“I have some quizzes to grade, I might try to get them done tonight.”

“Sounds about as exciting as my homework plans.”

“It’s worse. I mourn how unprepared half my students are. My quizzes are not that difficult, if you just do the reading.”

That, she did agree on, she had to confess, and she chortled as they drank more of their coffee.

They were interrupted by a small group of people rounding the corner behind her, talking and laughing loudly as they moved to squeeze past.

Professor Solo reached out, taking her elbow in his hand as he guided them both a little closer to the curb to make room, and Rey’s heart fluttered.

He was touching her. He didn’t touch _anyone_ , but now he was holding her elbow with a loose, casual grip like it was the most natural thing in the world.

It was only a few moments, then his hand slid away, but the sensation of his grip remained.

“I believe that’s your shuttle,” he nodded over her shoulder, drawing Rey’s attention from his face to the road. Sure enough, it was, and Rey sighed as it pulled up.

“Good night, Professor Solo,” she murmured, stepping up into the shuttle with a look over her shoulder.

“Goodnight, Miss Johnson.”

***

_His hand was in the small of her back, and he was guiding her gently down the sidewalk. Not to the shuttle stop, but to his car, his voice soft and warm by her ear as they walked._

_“Such a little tease,” he purred. “Don’t think I didn't notice, Rey. Leaning on me, giving me those looks during the play. You’re lucky I didn't pull you into my lap right there in the theater, get that cute little cunt around my cock while Frankenstein lost his mind making his creation a wife. Would have been kind of fitting, don't you think?”_

_Rey leaned into him with a shiver, biting her lip._

_“Yes sir,” she murmured, “It would have.”_

_“Do you think you deserve to have me inside you now, after you were such a tease?”_

_She straight up moaned, barely keeping it soft and contained as she felt how wet she was getting from his softly growled words._

_“I think you deserve it,” she managed to murmur, making him laugh in a low rumble as he slid his arm more firmly around her, pulling her tight against his side._

_“Clever,” he purred against the shell of her ear. “My clever girl.”_

_Rey shivered again, biting her lip as he reached into his pocket. A few yards ahead of them, a black car unlocked with a click and flash of its lights, sending her heart into an excited flutter._

_He opened the door for her when they reached it, then followed her into the back seat._

_He wasted no time, unfastening and shoving her jeans down as he put his mouth to her throat, sending sparks of lust down her spine with the eager press of his lips and teeth._

_She toed off her shoes so she could slide her pants and underwear completely off, leaving them in a crumpled heap on the floor of the backseat before pushing firmly on his shoulders to make him sit back._

_His eyebrows were furrowed, and he opened his mouth to speak, clearly intent on asking her what she thought she was doing, when Rey swung her leg over his hip to straddle him._

_“Let me make it up to you,” she whispered against his lips, running her hands all over his chest before unzipping her jacket and letting it join her pants on the floor. “Let me get nice and wet for you, show you how good I can be.”_

_He moaned, grabbing tight to her hips and grinding her down against the bulge starting to tent the front of his trousers. “Show me.”_

_Rey gave an answering moan as she kissed him, running her hands all over his chest fervently as she rocked her hips against the hard outline of his cock. She was already wet and getting wetter, the friction of the fabric against her clit almost too rough but so damn good. He was going to have a wet spot on the front of his pants if he let her keep going, but he didn't seem to care; his massive hands holding her tight, guiding the grind of her hips and arching his pelvis up against the tight rub with soft pants and moans._

_Fuck, she needed more of him, her fingers hurriedly dancing down the line of buttons on his shirt, then fumbling for the buckle of his belt._

_He gave a soft chuckle, stroking his hands up her sides but not helping her, letting her pull the tongue of the belt through the buckle with a rough little tug, breath hitching at the small jerk._

_She was careful as she undid the button and slid down the zipper, but her hands were eager as she shoved his dress shirt open and undershirt up before sliding her hand into his underwear._

_He groaned, head tilting back against the seat as she used one hand to grip him, rubbing long, gentle tugs along his shaft. Her other hand shoved his undershirt up more so she could stroke greedily over his beautifully muscled chest, watching him get turned on with barely contained excitement._

_She gasped when one of his hands let go of her hip, sliding between her legs instead to dip between her folds._

_“Fuck, baby, I haven't even touched you and you're practically dripping,” he moaned huskily, looking at her with lust-heavy eyes that sent a pang of desire straight through her pelvis._

_“Can’t help it,” she whispered, squirming and gasping when he dragged his thumb up to her clit, “been thinking about this all night.”_

_He bit his lip, his thumb rubbing harder against the little bud and making her keen, her hand faltering on his cock as pleasure jolted up her spine._

_“Then I don't see the point in waiting anymore,” he growled, pulling her forward. Rey couldn't agree more, hurriedly lifting her hips to guide him to her entrance and sinking down with a long exhale._

_Fuck, he felt good like this, big and heavy and **deep** , and Rey gave a soft whine when he started to guide the movement of her hips with a shuddery breath._

_“So tight and perfect for me,” he murmured with a groan, Rey’s pussy clenching and twitching under the hard rub of his thumb on her throbbing clit._

_She clenched again, long, purposeful contractions of her inner muscles every time he bottomed out, pulling little growls and gasps from him that were a power rush like nothing else she knew._

_“Oh you good girl,” he moaned, tilting his head back against the seat in pleasure, giving her a perfect opportunity to put her mouth to his throat, kissing and biting as she started moving faster, the rhythmic rub of his thumb between her legs sparking ecstasy up her spine._

_“Shit,” he suddenly tensed, his hands getting more desperate, his hips hitching, and Rey ground down with a long moan as he started to come, chasing the peak right with him._

_A few more frantic grinds and rubs of his thumb and she was there, whining noisily against his throat._

Rey whined noisily into the quiet of her dorm, Rose spending the night with Finn, leaving her to touch herself without restraint.

She couldn’t have been more grateful for that, when spending a whole evening right next to Professor Solo had wound her so tight; this would not be the last orgasm of the night, that was for sure.

“Fuck,” she whispered into the silent air, thighs trembling as she came down. She couldn't wait to see him in class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That production of Frankenstein is really a thing, and you can see it for yourself this October at certain theaters! Click **[here](http://ntlive.nationaltheatre.org.uk/productions/ntlin4-frankenstein)** to find one near you that's hosting it. (It really is excellent, even if you've never read the novel.)


	5. Chapter 5

She thought everything was good. Bumping into him at the movie had been a happy accident, one she had jumped on, admittedly, but she didn't think it was anything scandalous.

She had flirted with him a little, sure, but she had kept her hands to herself and had kept her flirting mostly innocent. Nothing about his demeanor when he saw her onto the shuttle suggested he was angry with her, or uncomfortable with the way they had chatted that evening.

So when he was weirdly cold to her in class two days later, Rey just chalked it up to a bad mood. Maybe he hadn't gotten enough sleep, or maybe he had been frustrated by grading student papers.

Even so, she wished him a good day as she left, giving her usual wide smile, but his reply was curt and cold, with no hint of even the smallest grin. More reflex than an answer, it felt like.

Still, she just chalked it up to a bad day, and hoped he’d be in a better mood for their run the next morning.

Rey stretched leisurely as she walked, still a bit sleepy to be up this early, as she almost always was, but determined to make it down to the track to push through her three miles, sneaking glances at Professor Solo the whole way.

He was there, as he always was, dressed in black and looking good enough to eat as he rounded the curve of the track.

Rey gave a little smile, watching his back and ass as he ran, wishing not for the first time for the opportunity to put her hands on both. A girl could dream.

She made her way down the stairs to the track, and started jogging with a deep breath and a little pep talk to her protesting legs. He was ahead of her, but his long legs and fast pace would overtake her soon enough, and she’d ask him if he had taken her recommendation to watch _For the Love of Spock_ yet.

It was set to be a usual morning for them; little, breathless conversations as they ran, followed by a longer, more in depth one as they walked to cool down.

Yet when he caught up to her, Rey turned her head to give him a smile, only to find him adamantly keeping his gaze dead ahead as he ran past instead of dropping his speed to run with her.

It jarred her, surprised her into stopping for a brief moment as she looked at his retreating back.

“Hey!” she called a second later, picking up her pace again as she trailed after him. “Professor Solo!”

Maybe he had been lost in thought, and hadn’t really noticed that it was her? It was a grasp at straws, especially when her voice calling after him did nothing to slow his pace.

 _What the fuck?_ she thought with confusion, still trailing after him.

“Solo!” she tried again, but she could have swore he actually picked up his pace instead of slowing.

“What the fuck?” she repeated, this time in an audible mumble, furrowing her eyebrows.

What the fuck had she done, seriously? Everything was just fine three days ago, and now he was hellbent on ignoring her?

She frantically thought over that evening. There hadn’t been even the remotest indication that he was angry at her when they parted ways after the movie. Hell, he was the one who had insisted on staying with her until the shuttle arrived! And before that, when they had been getting coffee and chatting, at the most he had been playfully annoyed, at her black licorice comments and maybe her opinion on _The Catcher in the Rye_ , but it hadn’t seemed serious. The only serious moment they had had was when she had told him about her parents, about how she had been abandoned by them.

He had been upset on her behalf, she thought, but maybe he was upset that she had told him that at all. Maybe he thought it was pathetic, that it meant she was just some white trash, with no place at that university, undeserving of his time, especially when she wasn’t even an English major.

The thought made her blood boil. She had thought he was better than that, that he wasn’t some snobby silver spooner who put himself above everyone. And if he wasn’t, if she had done something to piss him off, she deserved to know what exactly it was.

Rey grit her teeth with a growl, determinately focusing a burst of energy on trying to catch up with him. He was going to talk to her, dammit, she deserved to know why he had his knickers in a twist.

It was stupid, really, he was so far ahead of her that she had no hope of actually catching up. She considered slowing and just waiting for him to come around again, but she just knew, somehow, that he wasn’t going to do that; he was going to leave the track when he got back around to the stairs, disappear and go home, and she wouldn’t see him again until class the next day.

She was too angry to wait for that, too impatient, she wanted this sorted _now_ , she didn’t want to be ignored for two days, left to stew in her agitation.

He rounded the far curve of the track, his breath misting in front of his face in rapid puffs, and Rey had a flash of inspiration.

The track was a large oval, with patchy grass in the middle, brown and wilted by this time in the season, and Rey darted across it. She couldn’t catch up with him the way she had been going, but she sure as hell could cut him off if she timed this right.

She would have, she was sure, her pace and angle just right to intercept him, if her foot hadn’t suddenly become snagged. A little animal burrow, maybe, or just uneven grass; it didn’t really matter when her ankle suddenly lanced with pain so sharp she gave a shriek of agony, hitting the ground _hard_.

“Shit shit shit shit!” she wheezed, tears in her eyes as she pushed up on her elbows, twisting around and sitting up with another cry as pain radiated through her ankle.

She was almost afraid to touch it, the pain starting to creep up her calf, and she dug her fingers into the dry grass as she clenched her eyes closed, trying to muster the courage to move.

“Rey.”

She forced her eyes open, her head snapping up to the sound of his voice. Of all the ways she imagined hearing Professor Solo say her first name, being on her ass in the dirt with an ankle that was possibly broken was certainly not one of them, not by a long shot.

He was crouched next to her, eyes wide and scared and his breath still heavy from running, just as hers was. “What happened?”

“My ankle,” she grit out in a hiss, letting go of the grass to grip her pant leg, pulling it up slightly to try to see the pained joint.

It was already starting to swell, and she hissed again as she tried to raise it off the ground a bit. _Fuck!_

He moved, shuffling down to her feet, and Rey gave another cry as he took her ankle into his hand.

“I know,” he murmured.

It was ridiculous, how huge his hand was, enveloping her ankle and pressing lightly. She whimpered, reactively trying to pull away, but his other hand grabbed her calf, holding her steady.

“I don’t think it’s broken,” he assured her, looking up from her ankle to her face, “but we need to get you to the health center either way, so they can make sure.”

She nodded, biting her lip as he gently lowered her foot again, careful and slow.

Rey assumed he would help her up, maybe let her lean on him for balance as she hobbled along toward the health center. The very last thing she expected was for him to crouch at her side and scoop her up.

She gasped, wrapping her arms around his neck in surprise as he stood almost effortlessly, his long strides taking them swiftly toward the stairs.

He was carrying her. _Carrying her._ Bridal style. Across campus. And all Rey could do was stare dumbfoundedly at him, closer to his face than she had ever been before.

She briefly considered that maybe she had actually hit her head when she fell, and this was some kind of weird, unconscious dream, or maybe a hallucination related to brain damage.

It certainly felt real though, his body pouring off heat, his arms under her knees and around her back tense with the effort.

She watched a bead of sweat roll down from his temple to his jaw, then down his neck to be absorbed by his already sweat-dark shirt. It was strangely hypnotising, to the point that she didn’t even realize they had made it to the health center until Professor Solo was carrying her through the automatic doors and the voice of the receptionist broke through her reverie.

“My goodness! What happened here?”

“Twisted ankle,” he told her, “I don’t think it’s broken, but it’s swelling up pretty bad.”

Rey managed to tear her eyes from his profile to the receptionist, who was coming around the desk to lead them back to an exam room. Considering it was 6:30 in the morning, Rey was unsurprised that the health center was pretty much empty, and she couldn’t complain about it when it meant she’d get seen right away. Being carried to the health center by the man she’d had a crush on for months had been a nice distraction, but she was quite vividly aware of the throbbing pain in her ankle now that she was there.

Professor Solo gently put her on the exam table, then stepped back out of the way, running both hands through his hair and looking lost, unsure of what to do.

“I’m just going to get some info from you sweetie, okay?” the lady said to Rey gently, waiting for Rey to nod before turning to Professor Solo. “If you could just wait in the lobby, please?”

“Right... right,” he murmured, nodding his head.

Still he paused, he and Rey exchanging a long look. She watched him clench his jaw, his lips pressing together, something unreadable passing over his face before he slipped out the door.

***

After an examination, Rey’s ankle was deemed badly sprained, but unbroken, and she was sent on her way with several ice packs, a compression bandage, ibuprofen, crutches, and a doctor’s note excusing her from class that day.

She knew it was too much to hope that Professor Solo would be in the waiting room for her, but it didn’t stop her heart from sinking in disappointment anyway. Honestly, maybe she should have been surprised that he had helped her at all, instead of leaving her on the track to fend for herself.

She tried to be quiet as she let herself into her dorm, aiming to grab her shower things to go wash the sweat off from her botched run, but Rose stirred anyway, peering groggily up at her from under her flowered comforter.

“Oh my god!” she suddenly exclaimed, sitting up with a wide-eyed look. “Rey! What happened?”

Rey didn’t want to talk about it, still too humiliated by the entire morning, despite knowing in her heart that Rose would be sympathetic. Maybe later, maybe after she lied down for a few more hours of rest and her ankle stopped throbbing.

“I twisted my ankle running today,” she sighed, which was the truth, if not the entirety of it. “The doctor at the health center said it’s just a bad sprain, but I need to put ice on it and keep it elevated today to keep it from swelling too horribly.”

“Do you need help?” Rose asked, hurriedly getting out of bed. “Is there anything I can do?”

“I’m just going to shower, then lie down, but could you share your notes with me today? And tell Professor Dameron why I’m not in class?”

“Yeah, of course,” Rose nodded, still looking worried, and Rey gave her a brief smile as she managed to grab her shower kit and towel, along with a fresh set of pajamas, without losing hold of her crutches.

“I’ll be right back, I promise I’m okay.”

Rose nodded, and Rey managed to make her way out the door again.

She felt stupid, hobbling to the showers down the hall from her dorm room, then sinking pathetically onto the freezing tile when she didn’t trust her balance to keep her standing on one foot. She allowed herself a self-depreciating cry as she washed as best she could from her feeble position, letting the water run over her until her little sobs and sniffles finally died out.

It wasn’t because of him, she insisted to herself. It had nothing to do with him, and everything to do with her ankle, her tiredness, her frustration at essentially being crippled for the duration of the day as she iced her injured joint.

When she finally managed to get out of the shower and dry off, putting on her fresh sleep clothes, she hobbled back to her dorm to find that Rose had gone to the cafeteria while she was cleaning up, which meant a cup of coffee and a large stack of pancakes were waiting for her on her nightstand.

“They should still be warm, but we can always microwave them for a few seconds if not,” Rose said, ushering Rey to sit down on her bed, where she had taken the liberty of stacking a couple pillows for Rey’s ankle and a few for Rey to lean back on.

“I love you,” Rey said earnestly, letting Rose take her crutches and prop them against the foot of the bed as she laid down.

“I know,” Rose gave her a little smile, handing her the plate of pancakes next. “I love you too, even though you’re a freaking disaster.”

Rey moaned, bringing a hand up to her eyes with an aggravated sigh. “God, you have no idea.”

“Oh I definitely do,” Rose shook her head with a little smile. “Want your laptop before I go to class?”

“Yes please.”

Rose kissed her on the head before she left, then Rey was alone.

She emailed her teachers why she would not be in class, then forced herself to do some homework.

She considered emailing him, asking him what the hell that morning had been about. She stared at the blinking cursor for several long minutes, his university email address sitting in the “to” line as her anger at the situation mounted higher and higher.

She hated to admit it, but she wasn't just angry at him, as much as she wished it was that simple. She was upset, hurt that he had been so callous when she had never done anything but go out of her way to be nice to him.

She closed the blank email, furiously refusing the tears accumulating in the corners of her eyes. Fine. If this was how it was going to be, then it was how it was going to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, don't hurt me! We still have four chapters to go, friends, a lot can happen.
> 
> There are quite a few asking if we're ever going to get Ben's perspective in this story, and the short answer is: no. The long answer is: I may or may not already be working on a Ben POV sequel/spin off... time will tell.


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning, the swelling had gone down, thankfully, and the ibuprofen was working its magic. Her ankle was still too tender to put pressure on, which was annoying as fuck, but manageable.

Professor Solo, for his part, looked like hell. He looked drained and irritated, with dark shadows under his eyes that pointed to poor sleep. Admittedly, when she limped into class, the pained look that flicked across his features gave her a petty satisfaction. Not only had he been an asshole to ignore her the way he had, but yes, she held him responsible for nearly breaking her ankle. She wouldn’t have had any reason to cut across the green if he had just acted like a goddamn adult and talked to her.

She knew her expression was giving away her irritation, but she didn’t care. He deserved to know that she was cross with him. She still diligently took notes from her front row seat, as she always did, but she couldn’t enjoy his proximity.

When class was dismissed, she packed up her things, carefully maneuvering her messenger bag to accommodate her crutches.

Then she left, silent as every other student making their way out the door.

It felt weird, it felt wrong, giving him just as icy of a cold shoulder as he had given her, but the throb of her ankle just fueled her silent anger.

He said nothing, though she could feel his eyes on her back until she passed through the door frame.

***

“Alright, spill,” Finn nudged her non-injured foot under the table, where he and Rose were studying with her in the library.

“Spill what?” Rey grunted in reply, still tapping an equation into her calculator.

“Why you’re not waxing poetic about Solo anymore.”

Rey froze, slowly looking up from her calculator to find both of her friends looking intently at her, leaning forward on the table expectantly.

“I don't know what-"

“It’s been two weeks, and you haven't once come to Advanced Physics with that dreamy smile on your face that you always have after his class,” Finn murmured with raised eyebrows.

“Exactly. Or told me about how good he looks lifting weights.”

“Or-"

“Alright, alright!” Rey interjected in an annoyed hiss, looking around them. They seemed to be alone in their row, but she still kept her voice soft. “It’s a... long story.”

“Sweetie, I will take any reason to take a break from this homework, start talking,” Rose insisted.

Rey sighed, looking from one to the other, then telling them all that had happened, starting with the movie and ending with their mutual cold shoulders to each other.

“I’ll fucking fight him,” Rose immediately growled when Rey was finished, looking furious. “I won't fight fair, either, I'll bite him if I have to.”

Rey couldn’t help but chortle, putting her head down on the table with a long sigh.

“Seriously though, that’s messed up,” Finn added. “I mean, look, I don't exactly think it’s _wise_ for you to try to get with him-"

Rey raised her head to protest, but Finn plowed through her objection, “-but he should at least have the dignity to tell you to your face to back off, instead of avoiding you.”

“That’s the point, though, Finn, I'm not _actually_ banking on any kind of hope that I've got a chance with him,” Rey sighed. “I mean yeah, it’s a nice fantasy, and I’ve liked getting to know him a bit, but I also know it was never gonna happen. I mean, fuck, if I was really going for it I would have gone to his office in a skimpy dress by now.”

Rose chortled, but Finn looked contemplative.

“I mean...” he said thoughtfully, biting his lip. “To play devil’s advocate here for a second... he might not realize that.”

Rey stared at him, and Finn raised his eyebrows.

“Again, I'm not saying I'm specifically on his side or anything, but... a pretty girl goes out of her way to hang out with him, is definitely younger than him, and also happens to be his student. That’s a cocktail of disaster that could get him fired.”

“But we haven't done anything!” Rey protested. “ _I_ haven't done anything, last I checked it wasn't a crime to talk to your professors.”

“I know, I know. I'm just saying... that might be why, is all. I still think he should have talked to you, but I'm just saying.”

Rey and Rose exchanged a glance, and Rey could see that Rose thought he had a point. Rey _knew_ he had a point, but it she hated it.

What if he thought she was trying to get him in trouble? Or was trying to gain favoritism in his class to get better grades? It was a trope probably as old as classroom education, students trying to fuck their way to a better academic standing. That _wasn’t_ what she was trying to do, not by a long shot, and frankly she was hurt that he might think so. Yet it still didn’t erase it as a possibility.

She had to talk to him, set the record straight.

Rey looked at her phone clock. He had office hours today, and it looked like he would be there for at least another couple of hours.

“I’ll see you guys later, text me if you leave the library, okay?” Rey murmured as she packed up her books.

“Where are you going?”

“To sort this out.”

Rose and Finn exchanged a look.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Rose asked tentatively, and Rey shook her head.

“No idea, but if Finn’s right, I can't leave him to think I was trying to manipulate him. I just can't. I can't stand it, that’s too horrible and I still have almost two months of his class left.”

“Want us to come with you?” Finn offered, but Rey shook her head again as she looped her bag over her shoulder.

“No, I’ll handle it. I'll see you guys later.”

She drew her hood up as she left the library, then jammed her hands in her pockets, the cold, overcast weather outside seeming to mirror her misery inside.

She tried to rehearse what she wanted to say, how to talk about it carefully, how to do it without embarrassing herself if this was completely off the mark; yet when she arrived at his office, she still had nothing.

There was a whiteboard on his door, each hour neatly listed in his tidy handwriting. “BOOKED" was written next to some, dictating that he had an appointment with someone or perhaps was dedicating that time to work.

She checked the time again. The current hour was empty. She held her breath, then knocked.

“Enter.”

She turned the doorknob, opening the door halfway to slip through before closing it behind her.

“Just a moment,” he murmured, his head down as he read a paper on his desk. She had a feeling he didn't yet realize it was her.

She took the opportunity to get a brief look around his office. It was very much what she had pictured for him; bookshelves taking up most of the walls, a little table with a printer/scanner off to the side, a small row of potted cactuses on the windowsill.

His desk was meticulously organized, with a little tower of paper trays on one corner, a mug of pens that had the university logo on it, a laptop, a planner, and one of those calendars that almost looked like a pad of sticky notes, where you tear off each day.

He had the sleeves of his blood red dress shirt rolled up and the top couple buttons undone, giving her a little peek at his black undershirt.

When he finally looked at her, his expression went carefully blank.

“Ah. Miss Johnson.”

“Professor Solo.”

Silence for a moment, and Rey twisted a bit of her sleeve between her fingers as she tried to organize her thoughts.

“How’s your ankle?”

He looked hesitant to ask, but seemed genuine in his concern.

“Better.” Rey nodded. “Still a bit sore, but healed enough that I don't need the crutches anymore, which is a relief. I just can't overwork it.”

He nodded, his jaw doing that clenching thing that pressed his lips together as he swallowed.

“That’s... good. I'm glad you’re on the mend.”

“Thank you. I am too.”

More silence, and Rey realized her fingers were trembling a little. She clenched her hands into fists.

“I think we need to have a talk,” she finally mustered the courage to say, and that blank look came back across his face. “About the day I hurt my ankle, to start.”

He let his breath out in a long sigh, looking down and clenching his jaw again, then indicating to the chair in front of his desk.

She sat, sliding her bag off and setting it on the floor beside her.

“I'm sorry, for that,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean for you to get hurt.”

“What did you mean to do, then?” Rey asked, twisting the fabric of her sleeve again. “Why did you ignore me?”

He chewed the inside of his cheek, finally raising his eyes to look at her.

“I thought it would be... easier.”

“Easier than _what_?” she implored him. “Have I done something to tick you off?”

“No,” he sighed, “easier than this conversation.”

Rey’s heart started to race with nervousness, and her fingers still insisting on trembling.

“It would seem...” he cleared his throat, shifting in his seat uncomfortably, “that one of my colleagues saw us getting coffee, and made an assumption that they then passed on to the head of the English department.”

Heat creeped up her face, embarrassment and fear paralyzing her in her seat. Fuck, _fuck_.

“So it was made very clear to me that I needed to act in a more professional manner.”

“I never wanted you to get in trouble because of me,” Rey leaned forward in her chair, the words coming out in a rush, “please, please believe that.”

He gave a little nod, his fingers plucking at the edge of a stack of papers on his desk, looking just as uncomfortable as Rey about the entire thing.

“Either way, I think it might be best if our interactions are restricted to the classroom going forward.”

All Rey could do was nod numbly, gathering up her bag and standing.

“I understand. Good afternoon, Professor Solo.”

She looked at the floor as she bee-lined for the door, almost missing his murmured reply.

“Good afternoon, Miss Johnson.”

***

Rey kept her distance after that. Even when her ankle healed, she didn’t bother trying to work out at the same time as him; it wasn’t worth it, even if he was still beautiful (he was) and she still fantasized about him (she did).

She felt like an asshole, though Rose tried to talk her out of it.

“Why do _you_ feel like an asshole?! He was the one who acted like a baby, literally running away from you rather than just tell you what was up.”

“I know,” Rey had sighed, “but I don’t blame him for trying to avoid that conversation. It was humiliating, I felt like Hester Prynne.”

“Ew, a _Scarlet Letter_ reference, really? That class has gotten to you.”

“ _The point_ ,” Rey insisted, “is that I felt like I was on trial for being a trollop.”

“Yeah, except you weren’t actually fucking him.”

“But clearly someone thought I was. Enough to try to get him in trouble for it. Rose, what if he had gotten fired over me?”

“He wouldn’t have gotten fired. They had no proof, getting coffee doesn’t mean you’re sleeping together. They’d have to catch you leaving his apartment or incriminating texts or something. He got a slap on the wrist, that’s all. That’s all they could do.”

She knew Rose had a point, but the problem was that it could have very easily slipped into the exact behavior Rose was talking about. Behavior that could have gotten him fired and her scholarships revoked.

If he had a smidgeon less integrity, if he had ever touched her or kissed her, she would have jumped in bed with him in a heartbeat. She would never make a move on him herself, she would never put him in a position where he had to make the choice to refuse her, but she knew she was far too weak to ever say no to him if he had asked.

That was assuming, obviously, that he was interested in her, which she actually didn’t know. He seemed to like her in a general way at the minimum, or at least he _did_ like her, before this whole debacle.

Now... she wasn’t sure. Things weren’t as painfully cold between them as they had been in the couple weeks after her ankle injury and before their conversation, but they certainly hadn’t bounced back to their previous level of friendliness, even within the classroom.

She returned to wishing him a good day, which seemed to surprise him. It wasn’t quite as bubbly as it had been before, admittedly, but it was still earnest. It didn’t have to be hostile between them, and she didn’t want it to be.

Fall shifted into winter. Her, Rose, and Finn shared an immensely nice “Friendsgiving,” which was a bright spot as their finals loomed, and Rey had to start getting herself organized for winter break.

“I wish you could come home with me,” Rose had said sadly, “but it’s just so much money to fly, and we can barely afford for me and Finn to spend Christmas together-”

“I know, Rose, it’s okay,” Rey had replied gently, completely meaning it. Finn was like her, he had been a ward of the state, so they had spent their freshman year Christmas together in solidarity. It had been nice, it had been the only Christmas she had ever really celebrated, but since Finn and Rose had started dating in the spring, it made sense for him to spend Christmas with her and her family instead that year.

“You know we’ll Skype you on Christmas morning.” Rose had given her a hug. “We can open presents together.”

“Of course.”

As the end of the semester drew closer and closer, she started making arrangements for the holiday. There was a bar/restaurant in town called _Maz_ , which had very graciously hired her as a waitress over Christmas the previous year. Then the wonderful older woman who owned the place (Maz herself) was even kind enough to rent the tiny flat above the place to Rey for almost nothing throughout the summer, once learning of her situation. It had been nice, having a steady job and a place to live that was her own, and Maz greeted her with open arms once again when Rey stopped by.

“Rey Johnson!” she smiled broadly, her beautiful, dark brown skin in contrast to her pure white braids. “My darling girl, how are you?”

“Exhausted,” Rey laughed, bending over slightly to give Maz’s tiny, petite figure a tight hug, “this semester is running me ragged, I’m sorry I haven’t been around much to see you.”

“That’s quite alright, school is your priority. Let’s get you something to eat, then I want to hear all about it. You’re looking for a winter job?”

“Yes ma’am, I am. If you have room for me.”

“Of course, of course, gladly.”

Rey’s heart immediately felt lighter with relief; just the small detail of having an income over break- when the campus cafeteria wouldn’t be an option for her to eat, requiring her to buy her own food- made the end-of-semester stress so much easier to handle. The fact that Maz always made sure she had a meal for free when she worked was a huge help as well.

Maz insisted that Rey’s meal was free that day too, as she always did, and Rey eagerly tucked into what was undoubtedly the most delicious burger in town.

“Only one problem,” Maz said with an apologetic look, “I can’t let you stay in the flat above the restaurant over break. My niece and her baby are staying there while she goes through her divorce. It’s a horrible mess, _horrible!_ So I’m afraid you’ll have to find somewhere else. I’m very sorry, Rey.”

Rey nodded in understanding, dragging a french fry through the puddle of ketchup on her plate. She was disappointed, for sure, but thankfully, that was something she could arrange with the school, same as she had last year.

“It’s alright Maz, I can work around that with school. And I’m sorry your niece is going through that, that sounds awful.”

“It is,” Maz nodded sagely, “but she made the right choice, leaving that bum.”

Rey couldn’t hide her smile. She liked that about Maz, she was unapologetically honest.

“My last day of class is the 21st,” Rey informed her. “Want me to start that night?”

“I would be delighted if you did.”

With her winter job secured, all that was left was housing. She knew the routine, knew the paperwork from last year. Students were not permitted to stay on campus during winter break (something about not having enough security to properly monitor all the campus dorm buildings), but they would allow her to stay in one of the multiple apartment buildings in town that was owned by the college.

Then it was just a blur of studying and stressing about finals.

“I think I’m going to start hallucinating if I drink another Red Bull,” Finn groaned, resting his head down on his arms on the table.

“How many have you had today?” Rey mumbled, typing half-heartedly at her English Lit final.

“Three? Maybe four? I’ve lost count.”

“Your heart is going to explode,” Rose said it so matter-of-factly that Finn raised his head with a concerned look.

“I don’t know about explode, but you may have a heart attack if you drink any more caffeine, I highly suggest water instead.” Rey reached over to pat his elbow, and he sighed, putting his head back down.

“I dunno, having a heart attack might be a good way to get out of some of these finals. I think Dameron might be sympathetic.”

Rey chortled. “I thought you liked his class.”

“I do like his class, I'm just so _tired_.”

Rey chortled again, giving her head a little shake. “Tired" was the constant state of the entirety of December, there was no avoiding it. They just had to remember that the end was in sight, then they had almost an entire month of winter break to recuperate.

She was looking forward to it, despite the fact that she would be alone for the holiday. She was used to it, she spent a lot of time alone growing up, and holidays had been practically nonexistent. But alone or not, it would give her brain a much-needed rest from class, and she could hopefully sock a little money away to use for the spring semester.

Then Professor Ben goddamn Solo.

She looked furiously at the “D" on the top of her final paper. It was completely unjustified, it was completely unfair. It was not subpar in quality to the rest of the papers she had been handing in that semester, and they had all received C’s and the occasional B. She knew he was a tough grader, which was why she had been fine with the C’s and B’s, but a _D?!_

She stormed up to his office door, double checking that he didn't currently have an appointment going on with any other students, and knocked when the time slot showed empty.

“Enter.”

She opened the door and stepped through, closing it sharply behind her.

He was putting a book back on one of his shelves, but Rey couldn’t even appreciate the view of his beautiful back, she was so annoyed with him.

“Why did you give my final paper a D?” she demanded.

He turned, a frown pulling down the corners of his mouth as he moved back behind his desk.

“Because I graded according to the quality of the work, why do you think?”

“That’s such bullshit.”

He looked surprised by her aggression, sliding his hands into his pockets as he regarded her.

“I don't do regrades, Miss Johnson, you already know that.”

His voice was flat and cold- his stern teacher voice- and it made Rey’s hackles rise.

“I deserve a passing grade. This paper is just as good as the rest of the assignments I've handed in this semester. I'm not demanding an A, sir, but you know this paper should get at least a C.”

“Which is exactly your problem, Miss Johnson, you have never aimed for perfection in my class. You told me so yourself.”

“Oh, so, what? You’re suddenly highering your already impossible standards _only_ when it comes to me? For what, to try to teach me some kind of twisted lesson about my potential or some bullshit?”

“No, I'm merely pointing out that you’re capable of better, but you admitted you didn't strive for it.”

“Jesus, you’re so full of shit!” Rey burst out angrily, striding forward until her thighs were pressed against the front of his desk, glaring up at him. “There’s nothing wrong with this paper and you know it. I clearly stated my thesis, gave plenty of examples, cited my required number of sources perfectly, and I don't see a single pen mark for grammar or spelling mistakes.”

“Your paper was uninspired,” he growled in answer, “it was a simple thesis that barely required effort.”

“Oh well I'm so sorry it wasn't some magnum opus worthy of your prestigious literary textbooks, but in case you've forgotten, I'm not an English major, I'm a goddamn engineer. So yes, your highness, I'm going to prioritize my _actually useful_ math courses over creating some literary analysis masterpiece.”

“Watch your tone, Johnson.”

He was trying to be scary, trying to pull off his intimidating, hardass professor demeanor, but she was long past being afraid of him. The fact that _that_ was all he could think to say spoke volumes too; he knew he was wrong, so trying to remind her of his position of authority was nothing more than a scare tactic to try to get her to back down. She knew men who used that angle her whole life, and she was tired of it; she sure as fuck wasn't going to back down now.

“This is punishment, isn't it, for what happened after _Frankenstein_? Some kind of revenge?”

His face blanched, then flushed, a scowl pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“No,” he grit through his teeth, but the flush over his face and down his neck told her otherwise.

“Bullshit, of course it is,” Rey growled, her fury mounting. “You’re punishing me to prove to your boss that you don't favor me.”

“If I favored you, don't you think I would have given you A’s this semester?” There was a haughty kind of sneer in his voice, but Rey just laughed meanly at him, seeing right through him.

“No, of course not! That’d be suspicious as fuck, you never give A’s. But you don't want to be accused of pushing a student through with a passing grade when they didn't deserve it. Your reputation is more important than being fair to me.”

“That’s not true.”

“Then have the fucking guts to fix my grade.”

He was fuming, she could see it, anger livid behind his eyes and the hard cut of his mouth, but she was far from done.

“I am _sorry_ that you got in trouble because of me.” She hated that there were suddenly tears pricking at her eyes, her upset and humiliation at the whole thing mixing with her anger. “I never wanted that to happen, and if you've gotten it in your head that I was trying to manipulate you or something you’re just straight fucking wrong. I'm sorry, okay? I'm so fucking _sorry_.”

Her voice broke a little on the last “sorry,” filling her with shame, but it shifted something in him, she could see it; the fury in his eyes from moments before receded a little, his mouth losing it’s hard edge. She felt pathetic, she didn't want him to pity her because she had turned on the waterworks against her will. She wanted him to fucking _listen_.

“But guess what?” she pressed on, clenching her hands until her knuckles ached. “I'm not sorry for the time I spent with you. And I'm not sorry for daring to like you, though I'm sure that ruins your stupid ‘asshole teacher’ reputation, having a student who’s actually fond of you. You think I dragged my ass out of bed at 6am to run that stupid track just for the hell of it? Of course not, I did it to spend time with you, I wanted to know you. And I'm not sorry for enjoying that time, for liking to talk to you like that.”

His anger was completely gone, leaving behind a sort of stunned blankness, and Rey shook her head, scrunching her eyes closed for a second, though it made the tears that had been gathering in her eyes fall, sliding down her cheeks.

She reached into her bag with a clumsy hand, pulling out her paper and tossing it on his desk.

“Do what you will,” she said hoarsely, emotionally drained and dejected. “I can't make you fix it. Enjoy your holiday break, Professor Solo, and have a good afternoon.”

She turned away, crossing the room to the door and leaving without another word.


	7. Chapter 7

She hugged Rose and Finn goodbye as they left school for winter break, and managed not to cry.

“Remember, you can't open your presents until Christmas. We’re going to Skype, and open our presents together. Got it?” Rose reminded her, giving her a final, tight hug.

“Got it,” Rey smiled, before getting wrapped in an equally tight hug by Finn.

“Love you, Rey,” he murmured, squeezing her warmly, almost making Rey tear up. “You sure you're going to be okay by yourself over break?”

“Of course,” she reassured him, squeezing back and pressing a brief kiss to his cheek. “Enjoy yourself, okay? Don't worry about me.”

“We’ll be back before you know it.” He gripped her shoulders as he pulled back, giving her an encouraging smile.

“I know,” Rey smiled back. “Now get going, you’re going to miss your flight!”

“Love you, Rey!” they both said again as they got in the Lyft that would take them to the airport, and Rey echoed them with a wave.

Then all that was left was moving most of her clothes and a handful of her belongings to the temporary apartment off campus.

It was nice, a one bedroom flat with a little kitchen and living space; more luxurious than her dorm room by far, and fully furnished almost like an extended stay hotel. She made it as homey as her meager possessions could influence, then prepared to go to her first shift back at Maz’s since the end of summer break.

The very last thing she expected as she locked the door behind her was to find Professor Solo letting himself into the apartment directly across from her.

They both froze, staring dumbly at each other for a long moment.

“What are you doing here?” he finally blurted with a confused crease between his eyebrows.

“Uh... living here?” she answered, finally pulling her door the rest of the way closed. “Students aren’t allowed to stay in the dorms over break, so they relocated me here until the spring semester starts.”

“Oh.” He looked confused for a moment more, then seemed to remember something, his expression shifting to one of understanding. If Rey had to guess, he was remembering their conversation about her parents. “Right.”

“Right,” she echoed, fiddling with her keys for a moment. “Uh... anyway, I have to... go...”

“Right, right.” He nodded, turning his keys in the lock of his apartment.

“Have a good evening, Professor Solo.”

“Good evening, Miss Johnson.”

***

It was fine, really. They were neighbors, but it wasn’t like they had to share a bathroom or something, there really wasn’t much reason for them to see each other.

Rey took as many shifts as she could at Maz’s, keeping busy as the days ticked closer to Christmas, and he did... whatever it is he did when he wasn’t teaching, she supposed. Running and reading and watching television, like most people did.

Two days before Christmas, she got up the courage to check her student transcript.

She was confident in almost all of her classes, scanning through her final grades with satisfaction, but not surprise.

Then... English Lit.

_English Lit 101: C+_

Rey’s heart fluttered in her throat, and tears pricked her eyes. She refreshed the page, just to make sure it was showing correctly.

_English Lit 101: C+_

He had changed it. He had given her final paper a passing grade, allowing her to pass the class.

She looked at her door, and considered going across the hall. She had no idea what she would say, if he would even want her to say anything.

 _I passed English Lit._ She texted Rose and Finn, who had demanded updates after she had confessed to their confrontation in his office.

_Fucking hell, really?! Maybe he’s not a complete tool after all._

Rey gave a tiny laugh at Rose’s surprise, shaking her head and looking at the ceiling for a moment before texting back. _Guess not._

She bit her lip, thinking, before adding, _Should I say something to him? Thank him, or something?_

 _I dunno,_ was Finn’s reply. _If things are awkward between you two it might get weird._

Things _were_ awkward between them. They had nearly, literally bumped into each other in the hallway the day before, and neither of them had managed to even mumble an apology without awkward side glances and hurrying away.

Rey sighed, tapping out a reply. _Yeah, you’re right. Maybe it’s just better to let it lie and put the whole thing behind me._

Rose sent her a gif of _The Golden Girls_ sharing a group hug, making her smile.

_Love you too._

Rey asked them how the holiday was going so far, and told them about the rather raucous group of businessmen she had waited on at Maz’s that evening. It was still bittersweet, being stuck alone while her friends were together for the holidays, but she was happy they were enjoying themselves.

On Christmas Eve, she watched _White Christmas_ in the morning before going into work, unapologetically singing along as she folded her laundry. She actually felt cheerful, enjoying the music and being productive. She was actually looking forward to work, too, Christmas Eve tended to be busy, last minute shoppers bustling around town, which meant more tables which meant more tips.

Then about halfway through her shift, Maz came through the kitchen wearing a Santa hat and carrying a stack of envelopes, handing one out to every employee.

“Merry Christmas, my girl,” she murmured to Rey with a smile, kissing her on the cheek.

It was a very beautiful Christmas card, a winter forest with a glowing, sparkling Christmas tree in the center, with not only a beautiful little note from Maz about how proud she was of Rey’s accomplishments during the school year, and how wonderful it was to have her as part of the “restaurant family,” but it also contained a Christmas bonus. A sizable one.

Rey cried, both from the wonderfully sweet sentiment as well as the immensely generous gift, and made sure to give Maz an extra tight hug before they all left for the evening.

It was a pretty good Christmas Eve, all things considered. She’d go home, she’d watch another Christmas movie, maybe make some hot chocolate. It would be fine, even being by herself.

She was considering what movie to put on (via Rose’s most generous sharing of her Netflix account) when she arrived at her apartment door, reaching into her pocket for the keys.

They weren’t there.

Rey froze, mind in a panic. She went through each pocket, of both her coat and her black jeans, even her waitressing apron, then her bag.

No keys.

_Fuck._

“Okay,” she murmured out loud, staring blankly at her locked door for a second, trying to convince herself to calm down. “It’s okay, just... retrace your steps. Maz’s isn’t far from here, they may have just fallen out of your pocket. They could be sitting on the steps outside right now. Just... go look.”

She looked. She walked her entire route back to Maz’s, scanning the ground with growing dread and panic.

No keys.

“No... no, no, no, no!” she moaned, standing at Maz’s door with her head in her hands. She hoped to god that the keys were inside, on the floor somewhere, and not picked up by some stranger or lost down a drain.

She pulled out her phone, bringing up Maz’s number and giving her a call.

“What’s wrong?”

Rey considered that Maz was probably at least mildly psychic.

“I’m so sorry to bother you, Maz, but I’ve lost my keys, I was hoping that maybe I had dropped them in the restaurant somewhere, if you could let me back in to look?”

“Oh dear.” The trepidation in her voice made Rey’s heart sink into her shoes. “Oh Rey, I’m sorry, I’m not able to come back. We caught a train upstate to see my sister right after close, there’s no way for me to turn back.”

Double fuck, with a side of shit.

“I understand,” Rey nodded, putting her forehead in her hand. “It’s okay, I’ll look around as I walk back, maybe I missed them the first time.”

“Maybe see if the supervisor of the building has extra keys?”

She wasn’t given a name of a supervisor, but she could possibly find out, go from there.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll look into that. Thanks anyway, Maz. Enjoy your holiday.”

“Keep me updated, kiddo.”

“Will do. Bye, Maz.”

“Goodbye, Rey.”

Tracing her steps back proved equally as fruitless, and Rey felt on the verge of tears as she stood in front of her locked door again.

She searched her email confirmation about the apartment, looking for a name of someone she could call, and came up empty. She was very rapidly running out of choices.

She didn’t want to have to call a locksmith. She couldn’t afford it, every dollar she was making needed to last her through the upcoming semester.

“Dammit!” she yelled in frustration, banging her open hand against her locked door, then thunking her forehead against it with a growl.

Fuck. _Fuck._

“Miss Johnson?”

Double fuck.

“Sorry, Professor Solo, I didn’t mean to yell.”

She kept her head pressed against the door, screwing her eyes shut and trying to regain her composure.

“Is... everything alright?”

No, absolutely nothing was alright.

“I’m fine. I just... lost my keys.”

Silence, then his tentative voice, “I can call the super, if you want. See if he can come up and let you in.”

Rey turned her head to look at him. Fuck, it was outrageous, how nice he looked. She had never seen him in anything but button up shirts or workout clothes, but now he was wearing a black, knitted, turtleneck sweater and jeans, looking beautiful and casual while she undoubtedly looked disheveled and tired from her shift.

“That would be very kind, thank you,” she murmured meekly. “When they assigned me to this apartment they didn’t give me anyone’s name, I had no idea who to call.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “I’m not surprised. I’ve never known a university that was actually organized.”

He held his phone to his ear, and she could faintly hear the sound of the call going through. It rang... and rang... and rang...

“Dammit,” he sighed, shaking his head. “It’s going to voicemail.”

He left a message, giving a brief summation of Rey’s situation, then hung up with an apologetic look.

“I honestly don’t know if he’s gone out of town for the holiday or not,” he said, “so I’m not sure when he’ll call back.”

Just Rey’s fucking luck.

“Thank you for calling anyway,” she murmured, turning her face back to the door with an aggravated sigh.

Silence, and Rey kind of wanted to just be absorbed by the floor so she didn’t have to deal with her suddenly shitty night anymore.

“Why don’t you... come in?”

Surely, she couldn’t have heard him right.

She raised her head, turning around properly to look at him, and just stared for a moment.

“What?”

There was a flush on his cheeks, but he tucked his phone back into his pocket as he repeated himself. “Why don’t you come in? We can wait a little while to see if the super calls me back.”

Professor Solo was inviting her into his apartment. Had she gotten hit by a truck on her way home, and this was some kind of coma dream?

“You don’t have to do that,” she murmured, looking at the floor. “I can just...”

Just what, she had no idea. It was Christmas Eve, where was she going to go?

“Rey.”

It was always startling, to hear her first name from his lips, and it jerked her gaze up to him immediately. He pushed his door open, and waved his free hand toward it as he looked at her with raised eyebrows. “I’m not leaving you in the hallway on Christmas Eve, okay? Please, just... come in.”

All she could do was nod, silently stepping forward and through his doorway.

It was a beautiful apartment. It was similar to the one she was currently occupying, but bigger, and the furniture was definitely nicer.

She looked around with open curiosity; scanning her eyes over his long black sofa, set up in front of a decent sized television with a coffee table and flanked by two end tables. A desk, as meticulously organized as the one in his campus office, with his laptop in the middle of it, open, but the screensaver up, shifting from scenery photo to scenery photo.

Bookshelves, lots of bookshelves, which didn't surprise her, several walls lined with them and each one packed to capacity. There was an armchair with a reading light in one corner, because of course he was pretentious enough to have a reading chair.

“Here, give me your coat so I can hang it up.”

She looped her bag off her shoulder so she could shed her coat, allowing him to take it from her and hang it in the closet behind the door.

“Would you like something to drink?” he offered, making his way toward the kitchen. “I don’t have a ton of options, but... anyway, water, orange juice, and milk are about all I’ve got, unless you’d like coffee or tea?”

“Just water is fine, thank you.”

He nodded, stepping into the kitchen to get it for her. She watched him over the breakfast bar, standing awkwardly in the living room, unsure of what to do.

“Here,” he offered her the glass, holding his other hand out for her bag. “I can put your bag in the closet too, if you want?”

“Oh. Sure.” She nodded, handing it over and accepting the glass. “Thank you.”

He nodded, and Rey looked around again as he gently put her belongings in the closet.

“I'm sorry you lost your keys,” he murmured, looking just as much at a loss of what to do as she did, still standing by the closet and shoving his hands in his pockets. “Any chance you left them in your apartment itself?”

She hadn't considered that, but it was a possibility.

“I don't know,” she shrugged. “I could have swore I had them when I left but maybe not. I retraced my steps back to work tonight and couldn't find them, I'm hoping they’re in the kitchen at work or something, I really don't want them to charge me for a new set of keys.”

He nodded again in understanding, then more awkward silence.

“Right,” he suddenly said, seeming to make up his mind about something. “Well, if it’s going to be a while before the super calls me back, you might as well make yourself comfortable. The bathroom is down the hall if you need it, and feel free to put on the television. Flip around or pull up Netflix, whatever you want.”

Washing up sounded like a nice idea. She wished she could change her clothes, get out of her food-stained shirt and into her pajamas, like she had planned, but washing her face and arms in the bathroom sink would do for now.

“Thanks,” she murmured with a nod, putting her glass on one of the coasters scattered across his coffee table before turning to walk to the bathroom.

She fought the urge to snoop, but she did find it amusing that he seemed to have a theme; dark colors. The bathroom rug, toilet cover, and shower curtain were all black, in stark contrast to the white porcelain and tiles. The only splash of color was his red toothbrush, sitting by itself in its black holder.

She used the toilet then washed her hands, dragging the suds up her arms to get rid of any food residue. She washed her face, then looked up at the mirror.

It would be a lie to say that she had never imagined this; never imagined being in his apartment, never imagined seeing the casual side of him, how he was when he wasn't stern, Professor Solo, but was just Ben.

She blotted the moisture off her face with a little bit of toilet paper, then let down her ponytail, finger combing it the best she could before gathering just the top half back up, leaving most of her hair down around her shoulders.

 _Better,_ she nodded at her reflection, smoothing the flyaways before returning to the living room.

He was sitting at his desk, typing on his laptop, and Rey shifted uncertainly from foot to foot.

“You can put on the television, if you want,” he reminded her, glancing over his shoulder.

“It won't bother you?”

He shook his head. “Not at all. I'm good at tuning out background noise. And if you want Netflix, it should come up on the main menu when you turn on the TV, it’s one of those internet connected ones.”

Rey nodded, and tried to make herself comfortable on his sofa as she turned on the TV.

This was weird. It was very weird. She didn't know how to act, what she was allowed. He seemed intent on keeping busy at his computer, but whether it was because he didn't want to have to interact with her or because he assumed she didn't want to talk with him she had no idea.

She ended up pulling up Netflix, just wanting something she could select and let run, so she didn’t have to worry about changing channels.

Rey glanced at him as his queue came up on the screen, curiosity burning. He seemed absorbed by whatever he was doing, or at least he was doing a good job of pretending to be, so she gave in to her impulse to look through his queue.

There were a handful of documentaries, ranging from _Planet Earth_ and _Blackfish_ to _Inside the Mind of a Serial Killer_ and _Occult Crimes_. Much of the science fiction they had talked about over the semester made an appearance, like _Star Trek_ and _Moon_ , right next to dramas like _The Dead Poets Society,The Imitation Game_ , and _West Wing_. Then the ones that surprised her; _RENT, The Phantom of the Opera, Great British Baking Show,_ and _Friends_ , of all things.

She was fascinated, it was a like a little peek into his psyche. She smiled when she saw _Bob Ross: Beauty Is Everywhere_ , and decided to put that on. She wanted something calming; something unobtrusive and undemanding of her complete focus.

She glanced at him as the weirdly peppy, very 80s theme music started up, and found him peeking at the television out of the corner of his eye.

“Are you sure it won’t distract you? I can-”

“No, no,” he murmured, turning back to his screen. “That’s... perfect, actually. I put him on a lot, for background noise.”

“Me too,” she said quietly. “I’ve never painted in my life, but he almost makes me believe I could.”

He gave a tiny chuckle, and Rey’s throat felt inexplicably thick at the warm sound.

She missed him. She had seen him in class three days a week for the last four months, but it wasn’t the same as the time they had spent outside of the classroom; time she had sorely missed for weeks now. She missed his half smiles and dry sense of humor, she missed listening to his thoughts on why the new _Lost in Space_ show was boring, or why the paradoxes in _Back to the Future II_ bothered him so much.

She hated that if happenstance had not dumped her across the hall as his temporary neighbor, their last conversation would have been her flinging barbs and accusations at him.

Barbs and accusations he seemed to have put aside, considering he was being kind enough to invite her into his home, had called someone to help her get in her door, and was encouraging her to be comfortable as they waited.

“The closest I ever got was calligraphy,” he murmured thoughtfully after a moment. “I’d transcribe poetry, mostly.”

It was the single most ridiculous, charming, nerdy thing she had ever heard, and she couldn’t help but laugh.

He turned to look at her with raised eyebrows, and she clasped a hand over her mouth with another giggle.

“I promise I’m not laughing at you.” She hurriedly put her hand down. “That’s just... such a delightful idea, you writing poetry out with a fancy brush. Do you still do it?”

His cheeks were slightly pink, and she fervently hoped she hadn’t truly embarrassed him.

“Not as much, anymore,” he admitted, shifting around in his chair to face her, his hands folded in his lap. “I didn’t have the time when I went to college, and I just haven’t picked it up again in the years since.”

“You should!” she found herself encouraging with enthusiasm, pulling her knee up onto the sofa so she could twist further to face him. “I’d love to see your calligraphy.”

He looked down at his hands with an amused huff.

“I’d probably be crap at it now,” he said, shrugging one shoulder, “since it’s been so long.”

“They say practice makes perfect,” she offered, and he chortled, raising his eyes to her again.

“They do say that,” he acknowledged, then his gaze drifted to the television, where Bob Ross’s soothing voice was walking them through painting a forest scene, the sound of the brush strokes and taps a gentle white noise under his words.

The serenity of it was interrupted by the buzz of Rey’s phone.

“Shit,” she mumbled, accepting the call and putting it to her ear.

“It’s very rude to keep an old lady in suspense,” Maz chastised her, and Rey scrunched her nose guiltily.

“I’m so sorry, Maz, I just got... caught up.”

She could feel Professor Solo’s eyes on her, but she kept her own gaze on the television and Maz chortled.

“Well? Are you going to keep me in the dark, or did you get in your apartment?”

“Not yet, but my... uh... neighbor was kind enough to call the super for me, and is letting me wait it out at his place.”

“ _His?_ ” Maz questioned, making Rey scrunch her nose again.

“Um... yes?”

“How old is he? Do you know his name?”

“It’s alright Maz, really, I... we know each other, actually. From school, he’s... I can trust him, it’s fine. I promise.”

Maz gave a hum that sounded deeply skeptical, and Rey could feel her cheeks getting pink just from the vocal scrutiny.

“Is he there in the room?”

“Yeah...?”

“Then I want you to text me his name and the apartment number, and you keep me updated on your night, you hear?”

Rey nodded, even though Maz couldn’t see her. “Yes, I will. I promise.”

“You’d better, or you’ll have hell to pay when I come back, girl.”

Rey gave a little smile. Maz was a tough cookie, but she had one of the biggest hearts Rey had ever encountered.

“Yes ma’am.”

Maz “mm-hm”ed, then bid her goodbye, and Rey hung up.

“Was that Maz as in... Maz Kanata?”

Rey looked at him with surprise. “Yeah, it was. Do you know her?”

He snorted, giving his head a little shake, looking at his hands again. “I... yeah. You could say that.”

“Well that’s not cryptic or anything.”

He raised his eyes back to her, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “What can I say? I like being an enigma.”

She chortled, shaking her head as she sent Maz a text, as promised.

_I’m with Ben Solo. Apparently you know him?_

_That brat! How on earth did you get mixed up with him?_

_He was my teacher this past semester, and we somehow ended up as temporary neighbors over the break._

_You poor thing. Tell that punk he still owes me a bottle of Tullamore Dew._

Rey grinned, looking at him with a quirked eyebrow. “Maz says you still owe her a bottle of Tullamore Dew.”

He chortled, hanging his head with a sigh.

“Okay, seriously, how do you two know each other?” Rey was burning with curiosity.

“Old family friend.” He raised his head. “Then kind enough to let me work for her while I went to school.”

“ _You_ waited tables?” she couldn’t help but sound flabbergasted, and he frowned at her.

“Why do you sound so shocked?”

“Because seeing you with a fake customer service smile just doesn’t sound possible.”

There was a glint of challenge in his eye, and he leaned back in his chair, clearing his throat sharply and closing his eyes for a second. When he opened them again, there was an eerily pleasant, welcoming look on his face.

“Welcome to Maz’s, would you like to hear the specials today?”

“Jesus Christ!” Rey buried her head in the back of the sofa, stifling her laughter in the cushions.

“You can laugh, but I got some good tips and a few phone numbers with that sweetheart act.”

Rey raised her head again, still laughing, to find him thankfully returned to his normal, half-grinning self.

“That... I don’t even know how to feel about that. I think that was scarier than your hardass teacher voice.”

“Oh believe me, I pulled that out a few times when I worked there too; I was all too happy to show idiot drunks the door.”

“Now _that_ I definitely believe. Did you ever have to physically throw someone out?”

“Once or twice. And one of those times _might_ have involved a smashed bottle of Tullamore Dew.”

Rey laughed again, earning her another of his soft half-grins.

“Fuck, any chance you wanna work there this summer? I’d love to have someone around to throw out the dickwads who grab my ass like I’m a slab of meat.”

His grin slipped away, and his face took on that purposefully blank look that he did, making color rise to Rey’s face. Shit, she shouldn’t have said that, she shouldn’t be acting like they were friends, shouldn’t be talking like he would want to see her again after all this. She was done with her English courses; once the spring semester started up and Rey was back in her dorm, they would have no reason to interact.

“Sorry,” she murmured, looking at the back of the sofa.

“Why are you sorry?” he sounded genuinely perplexed, and Rey swallowed.

“Because... because you don't seem very comfortable with me saying stuff like that.”

“I-" he seemed to falter, letting out a quick huff of breath. Rey risked looking up to see him glaring seriously at the floor, his elbows resting on his thighs. “I am... it makes me upset that anyone has treated you like that. Has touched you like that.”

He breathed deeply, looking at her again, and Rey wished her heart would just _calm the hell down_.

“You don't deserve to be treated like an object. I'm sorry that’s happened to you.”

“Thank you,” she murmured softly. “Wish more men thought like that.”

“Yeah,” he sighed again, “me too.”

There was a bit of tension in the silence that followed, and Rey thought frantically of something to say that would steer them into less serious waters. She looked around the apartment for a moment, trying to find inspiration.

“I have a question.”

He quirked an eyebrow at her.

“No Christmas decorations?”

He chortled, both eyebrows raising in surprise, then shook his head with an amused smirk. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Well, I'm Jewish, for a start.”

“Oh!” She gave a little laugh, bringing one hand up to her face as she went pink. “Right, that would explain it.”

He gave her another closed-mouth smile, and she brought her hand back down as she looked around again. “So... no Hanukkah decorations?”

He let out an amused huff, looking at the floor again. “No, not really. I don't really see the point, I haven't spent the holiday with anyone in years.”

The tone of his voice seemed very casual, but he wasn't meeting her gaze; there was something painful there, she sensed, something private that she should back away from.

“Yeah.” She nodded instead of asking him why. “I understand that. I barely have anything up in my apartment, mostly for the same reason. Just a cute little desk tree and a wreath, since it’s just me. Last year me and Finn pulled out meager resources to spring for a live tree, it was beautiful. He said we should treat ourselves, since it was our first official Christmas.”

“Oh.” That blank look was back, and Rey frantically tried to figure out what she had said wrong.

She hurried to clarify, “Yeah, it was nice. He was like me, grew up in the foster system, so neither of us really got much in terms of holidays throughout our lives. But this year he’s spending it with his girlfriend- my roommate, Rose, I've mentioned her- so I'm on my own again.”

“Oh,” he said again, but he looked slightly surprised instead of that purposeful blankness.

“I'm used to it.” She shrugged with a wry smile. “I lived without it before, I'll do it again. Granted, locking myself out wasn't really part of the plan.”

“Shit, yeah, that reminds me,” he frowned, digging into his pocket a moment later to pull out his phone, looking at it with a scowl. “The super still hasn't gotten back to me yet. You'd think he’d at least have the courtesy to text.”

Shit. What if he didn't call back at all? What else could she do?

“Fuck, I might just have to give in and call a locksmith. Shit, I really didn't want to have to spend the money.”

“It’s almost midnight on Christmas Eve,” he pointed out in a murmur, “I don’t know how much luck you're going to have.”

Rey looked at her phone clock, sure it couldn't actually be that late, but no, he was right. Dammit, what hell was she going to do?

“You can stay.”

Her eyes snapped up to his, heat rushing up her neck and face, but his expression seemed completely serious.

“I can’t possibly ask you-"

“You're not asking, I'm offering,” he insisted. “If you don't want to, I understand, I can take you to a hotel or something, but... you’re welcome to stay.”

“I...” She had nowhere else to go. She would be an idiot to say no. “I really appreciate that. But... are you sure? I don't want to get in your way, I've already inconvenienced you-"

“You haven't inconvenienced me.” He stood up, moving toward the hallway, and Rey bit her lip. “Just give me a second, I'll get some things for you.”

“Right,” she said meekly, and he nodded in answer before moving down the hall.

She pulled up her text messages, sending one to Maz, _I’m stuck without a key, so I'm crashing on his sofa._

_Tell him to take good care of you or there will be hell to pay._

Rey chortled, affirming that she would, and wishing Maz a merry Christmas.

She probably should tell Rose and Finn, in case it interfered with their Skype plans in the morning, but decided she could do that later.

Professor Solo returned to the living room, carrying a small pile of things.

“I traveled a lot last summer,” he said quietly, “so I have a bunch of travel bottles of shampoo and stuff, if you want to take a shower.”

He held up a small bag of little soap bottles and a spare toothbrush, along with a towel, then piled a shirt and sleep pants on top of it. “And I know the shirt is going to be more like a dress on you, but I figured you’d be more comfortable to sleep in that than your work clothes. And the pants have a draw string, so that should help, you’ll just have to roll the pant legs up.”

Rey stood, shuffling closer to take them from him, and found her hands trembling a little. He was being so kind about this, so shockingly, amazingly sweet.

“Thank you,” she said softly, reaching out with both hands to take them, and her hand brushed along his.

It was barely anything; if it was Rose or Finn she wouldn't have even thought anything of it, but it wasn't, it was him. She felt color rise to her face and her heartbeat pick up tempo as he pulled away with a nod.

“Right,” she murmured, nodding as well, then indicating to the hallway with her full hands. “I’ll... do that. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome."

She hurried down the hallway and slid into the bathroom.

She was about to take a shower, in Professor Solo’s apartment, then put on his clothes. She considered again that maybe she had been hit by a car on her way home from work, and was in some kind of afterlife or coma dream.

“Just...” She put everything on the closed toilet lid, then picked up the bag of toiletries. “Just shower, Rey. Just calm down, and shower.”

She kept her voice to a whisper; the last thing she needed was for him to hear her talking to herself.

There was shampoo, conditioner, and body wash, all of which had “Marriott” stamped on the bottle, making it clear that they had been taken from the hotel’s bathroom. There was also a clean razor and travel shaving cream, as well as an unopened toothbrush, a travel toothpaste, and a little black comb. It was so meticulous, that he had a fresh travel kit ready to go at a moment’s notice. She wondered if he had had this one saved for a specific trip, or if he just always had one on hand.

She opened the toothbrush and left it on the sink with the comb and toothpaste, then lined up everything else on the edge of the tub before starting the water.

Despite the surrealness of the situation, she couldn’t say that getting a shower didn’t feel amazing; as much as she didn’t mind her job, one of the downfalls was definitely the fact that she left every shift feeling a little greasy and sweaty. One of the inevitable perils of working around food; which apparently, as a former waiter himself, was probably the reason why he had offered to let her use his shower.

She washed quickly, then after a thoughtful moment of biting her lip, decided to use the razor as well. It was complete vanity, doing her shaving routine when there was no reason that he’d even notice such a thing, but it just made her feel better. Made her night feel slightly more normal, considering the weird circumstance she found herself in.

She dried off her face and body before twisting her hair up into the towel and piling it on top of her head, then hurriedly brushed her teeth before donning the clothes he had given her.

Of course the shirt was black, dark was his whole aesthetic, and emblazoned across the chest in white lettering were the words “The Last Bookstore.” He was right, it was more like a dress than a shirt, the hem falling just slightly higher than mid-thigh and the whole thing loose around her with all the extra fabric.

Then the sleep pants, the drawstring clenched tight around her waist to keep them secure before she brought each leg up onto the toilet lid to roll up the hems.

She looked silly, practically swimming in how big his clothes were on her, but it was infinitely better than putting her dirty work clothes back on her clean body.

Then all that was left was to hang up the towel to dry and comb her hair.

When she returned to the living room, cradling her work clothes in her hands, she found that he had turned the sofa into an improvised bed, fitted sheet tucked around the cushions and a top sheet and blanket draped on top, along with a pillow for her to use.

He had returned to his desk, typing away, and Rey folded her clothes, putting them on the coffee table next to what appeared to be a stack of extra blankets, then tucked her shoes under the coffee table as well.

“I don’t know how prone you are to getting cold, so I left a couple extra blankets for you.”

“Thank you,” she said, moving toward the closet where he had stored her bag so she could get her spare phone charger out of it.

“Is there somewhere I can plug this in?” she asked, holding up the cord, and he turned his head to look at her.

She saw his throat bob as he swallowed, pink creeping up his cheeks, but his careful, blank look was firmly in place, making him next to impossible for her to read. She didn't fail to notice, however, the way his eyes flicked over her.

“There’s a powerstrip under my desk, if you would like to use that, I’m finishing up anyway. Or the outlets in the kitchen.”

He clicked the laptop closed and stood, unplugging it and tucking it under his arm.

“Feel free to stay up as long as you want, obviously, I would just appreciate keeping the volume down.”

Rey nodded, biting her lip as Professor Solo shifted his weight from side to side for a moment.

“Right, uh... goodnight, then.”

“Goodnight.”

He disappeared down the hallway, and Rey heard the click of his door a second later.

She let out a shaky breath, then moved into the kitchen to plug in her phone. His desk felt too personal, too invasive.

Her screen lit up when she plugged it in, and she gave a little chuff when she saw the time. 12:03.

Rey glanced up at the television, where Bob Ross was still playing, and gave a half hearted smile.

“Merry Christmas, Bob.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awesome tumblr user [mel-loves-reylo](https://mel-loves-reylo.tumblr.com) made a [beautiful moodboard](https://mel-loves-reylo.tumblr.com/post/177000226590/mood-board-inspired-by-the-delicious-story-good) for this fic!! This is so freaking awesome and I'm so grateful! AAAHHH!!

She turned off the remaining lights, but left the television on for a little while before making an honest effort to fall asleep.

At one point, she briefly heard him shuffle from his bedroom to the bathroom to brush his teeth, then returned to his bedroom. After that, all was quiet.

She made an effort. She really did. She made herself cozy under the blankets, she did calming breathing exercises she had seen on YouTube, she tried to clear her mind.

But she was surrounded by the smell of him; in the sofa and in the clothes he had lent her, in the sheets and the blanket. She couldn’t stop thinking about how he had looked, in that beautiful black sweater and jeans, looking so gorgeous and casual that she wanted nothing more than to get her hands under that warm fabric, trace her palm over the zip of his denim.

She kicked off the sleep pants, letting them crumple in a pile next to the sofa, biting her lip and trying to quell the nervous flutter in her stomach. What if he caught her? What if he came out to get a drink and found her with her hand between her legs, getting herself off while she thought of him?

It made excitement clench in her belly and her breath quicken, imaging just that. How he might look, kneeling next to the sofa, pushing the blankets down and cupping her knee, opening her legs wider so he could see.

She tugged the hem of the shirt up, just enough to slip her hand between her thighs, hiking her knee up and to the side to rest against the back of the sofa.

_”Did you think,” he murmured, trailing his fingers along the inside of her thigh, eyes glued to the rub of her fingers against her clit, lips shiny from licking them, “that I wouldn’t know what you were doing out here? That I wouldn’t know you were touching yourself, that you were misbehaving on my sofa?”_

_Rey shivered, his silky purr snaking right up her spine to steal her breath._

_“I’m sorry, sir,” she breathed, but didn’t stop touching, didn’t stop the tight little rub of her fingers against her clit; it felt too good, touching herself while he watched, knowing that it turned him on._

_“No, I don’t think you are,” he hummed contemplatively, “I think you like this, Rey, I think you like getting caught.”_

_She whimpered, swallowing and biting her lip, her hips twitching as she slipped her fingers lower, parting her folds to press them inside._

_He growled, pulling her hand away and pinning it to the sofa so he could duck his head._

_“Fuck,” she squeaked, his hot tongue flat against her clit as he pushed his fingers inside her instead, filling her just the way she wanted._

Rey bit her lip as she imagined it, sliding a second hand down her body. Her own fingers sliding inside her opening felt so woefully inadequate, not thick enough, not full enough. His would feel so much better, hit her so much deeper, he’d make her clench around him with pleasure, he’d rock his fingers against her g-spot perfectly.

She shuddered, rubbing hard against her clit as her other hand rocked tight little thrusts inside her, three fingers full, just trying to satisfy that ache.

_“No,” he murmured, pulling away when she got close, leaving her whining and writhing on the sofa desperately, “you’re not coming any way tonight but on my cock.”_

_She whined, squirming again until he pulled her up, making her gasp as he literally put her over his shoulder, carrying her into the kitchen._

_Being bent over the kitchen breakfast bar made her gasp, curling her fingers over the edge of it as the thick press of his cock threatened her entrance._

_“Beg me,” he growled, digging his fingers into her ass, “beg me to fuck you, tell me how much you want this.”_

_“Fuck, Ben, I want this, I want you, please, please, give it to me, let me have you, god-”_

_He cut off her babbling plea with the rough shove of his cock, setting a brutal pace that left her gasping._

_“Good girl,” he growled softly in her ear. “You’re going to come for me, aren’t you? You’re going to squeeze my cock with that pretty little cunt, aren’t you, sweetheart?”_

Rey arched, panting as quietly as she could keep it, even as the fantasy version of herself whined and whimpered noisily.

_“Yes,” she moaned in answer, squeezing and jerking back onto his thrusts with a loud groan, “Fuck, yes, I’m gonna come for you. Please let me come.”_

She was almost there, her pussy spasming and clenching as her pleasure started to crest.

_“Good girl. That’s it, sweetheart, come on my cock.”_

Rey swallowed down a moan as she came, even as the fantasy version of herself in her head got to cry out in pleasure. She wished more desperately than ever that it was really him she was clenching around, wished that she could hear the way he moaned in real life, not just in her head. Wished the scent of him all around her was his body, not just his things.

She kept rocking her fingers inside herself, even when her clit got too sensitive to keep touching, just thinking about him inside her as she let her body wind down, let her muscles get heavy with that nice, post-orgasm relaxation. A few minutes passed, her breath gradually slowing before she gave a deep sigh, sliding her fingers from her pussy and wiping them in the sheets.

It helped, her body feeling more relaxed, but she still felt so _awake_. She should feel tired, she had worked a full shift, and it was after midnight. After a nice little orgasm like that she should easily be falling asleep.

She just couldn't. There was just a restlessness in her mind, and paired with the feeling of a couch she wasn’t used to under her back, sleep seemed as far away as ever.

Still, she tried for a full hour to go to sleep. She tried the breathing exercises again, she stretched and resituated the blankets, making a nice little cocoon out of them. Hell, she tried counting sheep, which had never worked in the history of ever, but she was still willing to try.

She gave up around 1:30, throwing the covers back and very delicately navigating to the kitchen. She blinked rapidly as she turned the light on, squinting in the hard burst of light before getting herself another glass of ice water.

As she sipped it, she gazed out into the darkened living area, and her eyes were inevitably drawn to the rows and rows of books.

She moved back into the living room, turning on the little light by his reading chair before pursuing the shelves.

As with everything else about him, they were neatly organized, sitting in tight rows by author, and she couldn't find a spec of dust. It was also a wildly eclectic mix of books, which made her smile. She saw classics, of course; Hemingway and Shakespeare, Kerouac and Vonnegut. But then there was an entire shelf dedicated to _Star Trek_ and _Doctor Who_ novels, there was _Harry Potter_ and _Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, The Last Unicorn_ and _The Princess Bride_. There were graphic novels; _Constantine_ and _Watchmen_ , and even some manga.

She gently touched the spine of his beloved _The Catcher in the Rye_ , easily one of the most love-worn books on the shelves, and gave her head an amused shake.

She settled on plucking out _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone_ ; something easily familiar and guaranteed enjoyable, then curled up in his reading chair, her ice water on a coaster on the table beside it.

Uncle Vernon had just dragged them all to a tiny island in an effort to avoid Harry’s Hogwarts letters when she caught movement in the corner of her eye.

She looked up to find Professor Solo standing in the hallway, blinking rapidly at the unexpected light.

Her mouth went dry. She couldn't fight the pull of her gaze down his body if her life depended on it, hungrily taking in the sight of him in a thin, red t-shirt with the words “GRAND CANYON NATIONAL PARK" around an illustration of the canyon, and navy blue boxer shorts.

“Oh,” he murmured quietly, “Uhh... hi.”

“Hi,” she barely managed to squeak.

“You alright?” He stepped a little further into the room, still squinting a bit from the light of the reading lamp.

Rey nodded. “Fine, yeah. I just... couldn't sleep.”

“Me neither,” he sighed, then rubbed his eyes. “I was... I was going to make some tea, if you’re interested.”

“Sure,” she agreed softly. He nodded in answer, shuffling by her to step into the kitchen.

He filled the kettle, put it on the stove, then leaned against the counter as he waited for the water to boil. She closed _Harry Potter_ , biting her lip, just looking at him while he looked at the floor.

Something seemed off. She couldn’t put her finger on it, wasn’t sure exactly what made her think so, but she just felt it. He was tearing himself up about something, it was there in the tension of his shoulders, the hard grip of his hands on the counter behind him.

She returned the book to the shelf, then joined him in the kitchen, leaning against the breakfast bar directly opposite of him. He raised his eyes, and she watched his throat work as he swallowed before crossing his arms over his chest and leaning his shoulders back against the cabinets behind him.

“Is the sofa alright?” he murmured, clearly trying to make small talk while the kettle heated. “I know nothing beats a proper bed, but I hope it’s not too uncomfortable for you.”

“It’s fine,” she gave him a tiny smile and a little nod, “I’ve slept on far worse. I’m just restless tonight. I get like that sometimes.”

He nodded, taking a slow, deep breath in. “Yeah. Me too.”

Silence, and he clenched his jaw, pressing his lips together like he sometimes did, but she was smart enough by then to understand that mannerism for exactly what it was; insecurity. He was anxious, he was trying to put up a front of aloof detachment when the exact opposite was true.

“I never thanked you for changing my final,” she decided to bite the bullet and say, which seemed to catch him off guard. “So... thank you. It means a lot to me, especially after the way I yelled at you. I’m sorry about that, I was... I was so pissed at you, obviously, so I went in completely guns blazing. Not my finest moment.”

She looked at her feet, then moved to cross her arms too, wishing this didn’t feel so damn vulnerable for her to say.

“Yeah, well...” he trailed off, then huffed. “You were right.”

She looked back up, but this time he was the one staring at the floor.

He just breathed for a moment before speaking again, “So... the yelling was warranted.”

She swallowed through the tension in the air.

“Look on the bright side,” she tried to defuse the tight feeling between them, “you never have to read another one of my ‘uninspired’ essays again, now that I’m done with my English courses.”

She hoped he’d at least crack a little smile, but instead his expression seemed to grow darker, the tension in his shoulders tighter.

They were interrupted by the screech of the kettle, and he shoved away from the counter to turn it off and get out mugs.

“I don’t have a lot of options,” he mumbled gruffly, “Just peppermint tea or Earl Grey.”

“Peppermint,” she answered softly.

He put the tea bags in, poured the water, then returned the kettle to the stovetop.

He paused, his hands gripping the edge of the counter and his head angled down as he took a deep breath.

“For the record,” he said softly, almost too soft for Rey to hear, “you were the best part of my week. I looked forward to you wishing me a good day after every class, and I... I hoped every day that you would join me on the track or in the gym.”

She felt frozen, just staring at the dark waves of his hair, barely daring to breathe.

He wasn’t finished. “And... I’m sorry, for how I handled things after _Frankenstein_. I was just... so humiliated at being lectured for my friendliness toward you. I would have given almost anything to avoid having to talk to you about that, and it damn near broke your ankle. And I’m sorry about that too.”

His knuckles were white on the counter. “Then you... then you said all those things, about how you weren’t sorry for wanting to spend time with me.”

He turned just enough to look at her, and Rey’s heart broke a little at the vulnerable, uncertain look in his eyes. “Did you mean that?”

“Yes,” she said without hesitation, not pulling her eyes away, despite the thundering race of her heart. “Every word.”

That vulnerable press of his lips, and Rey stepped a little closer. What was it, about the middle of the night? About quiet conversations in midnight kitchens, bordering dark rooms and silent air, that made it feel like the truth was all you could speak?

“This is dangerous,” he whispered.

“Why?” Her voice was just as soft.

“Christ, Rey, you know why. You’re a student.”

“I’m not your student anymore. I won’t have a reason to step into your classroom ever again.”

His eyes flicked rapidly over her face, and she took another couple tentative steps toward him.

“I’m an asshole,” he reminded her.

“You’re not an asshole to me.”

“Yes I am,” he whispered, looking pained and upset as he said it.

“You have been,” she acknowledged, “but if you were as awful as you pretend to be, you wouldn’t have invited me in and let me stay the night.”

“Purely selfish,” his voice got even softer as she moved closer still. “I just didn’t want you to go.”

“Good.” She was so close to him she could feel his body heat, it would be so easy for her to touch. “I didn’t want to go either.”

“Rey...” his voice trailed off, and she was brave enough to place a soft hand on the small of his back. He stiffened, his lips parting slightly in surprise.

“Ben,” she implored right back. _Fuck_ , saying his name like that- out loud, to him- made her already frantic heart tizy with adrenaline. She had never dared, not outside of her fantasies; it was a safeguard, it was a safety net, a carefully placed barrier between her dreams and reality.

Then reality was kissing her.

Wrapping her arms around his shoulders wasn’t even a conscious decision, she was just suddenly doing it, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and pushing up onto her toes to meet the ferocity of his kiss with everything she had.

They had been circling this for months, from the moment they met, from the first time she had touched herself and thought about him.

His arms were crushing her to his chest and his body was moving, backing her up, clumsily guiding them both until she bumped against the breakfast bar. She squeaked when his hands suddenly seized the backs of her thighs, lifting her easily onto the cold counter.

It made kissing him easier, it put her closer to his height, and Rey unabashedly wrapped her legs around him, pulling him in as her hands moved to fist his soft hair.

She shivered when his fingers traveled up her bare thighs and under the edge of her shirt, and he made a choked sort of moan when he reached her hips.

“Fuck, you’re not wearing underwear,” he rasped against her lips, and Rey gave a little shake of her head, another shiver running down her spine.

He bit her lip with a growl, his fingers digging in as he pulled her even closer, pressing himself between her legs, and Rey gasped with a whine at the feel of him. Fuck, he was hard; he was hard and he was _big_ , straining against the fabric of his boxer shorts. Of course he was, he was a mountain of a man, of course he was big.

“You’re wearing my shirt, and you’re not wearing underwear,” he panted, his thumbs pressing into her hip bones, and Rey tightened her fingers in his hair.

“I was touching myself,” she confessed in a hot rush, pressing another frantic kiss to his mouth as he groaned. “I was thinking about you and touching myself.”

“Jesus Christ,” he moaned, burying his head down against her neck, his hips rocking against her, making her whole cunt throb. Then he ran his tongue along the side of her throat, following the tendon in her neck up to her jaw, a tiny press teeth at the hinge.

“Tell me,” he begged softly against her ear, dragging his palms up her back. “Tell me what you thought about.”

She gave a slightly delirious, breathless laugh, squeezing her legs around him.

“This,” she breathed. “I imagined you fucking me on this counter.”

He shuddered with a sharp breath, his hips hitching, and Rey was sure there would be a damp spot on the front of his boxers from how wet she was, her clit throbbing and desperate for a real touch.

“Please,” he whispered, “please let me, let me do that.”

Rey couldn’t imagine there was a single universe in which she would say no, wouldn’t feel on the edge of flying apart from his soft plea, absolutely desperate for the feel of his cock inside her.

“Fuck, fuck yes, are you fucking kidding me? Yes, _yes_ ,” she was babbling, her hands restlessly moving over his neck and shoulders, gripping and petting as her legs clenched around him, hitching her hips against his in a desperate little grind.

She was in no way expecting him to sink to his knees, wasn’t even remotely prepared to feel his hands pushing her legs further apart, making room for himself with an overwhelmed moan before pressing his mouth to her cunt.

She gasped and jolted like she had been shot, digging her hands into his hair as his tongue rubbed mercilessly over her clit, messy and sloppy, but so, _so_ eager.

“Oh my god,” she squeaked, each rapid little swirl over her clit like electricity sparking up her spine, and _fuck_ she could barely stay upright.

His tongue dipped between her folds, sliding effortlessly through her slickness with a sinfully wet sound that left her cheeks burning.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groaned against her wantonly, another long, flat lick making her gasp. “God, you taste even better than I imagined.”

The fact that he had imagined her taste at all set her head to spinning, and she _really_ could not remain sitting up.

She laid back on the counter with a high moan, her head hanging off the other side, doing nothing to help the overwhelmed, dizzy feeling floating through her head.

He took it as an opportunity to spread her wider, his hands hooked under the backs of her knees and tongue resuming its maddening swirl and rub over her sensitive clit. Fuck, she was going to come; she was going to come on his tongue harder than she had ever come touching herself.

Then he let go of one of her knees, pressing the tip of his finger inside her, and Rey couldn’t stop the noisy cry of want from escaping her throat.

“Yes, yes yes yes yes!” she chanted, squirming and grinding her hips down, trying to push onto the penetration with desperate desire.

He immediately complied, moaning soft and low as he sank into her easily, first with one finger, then two, the stretch feeling so good it almost brought tears to her eyes.

“Fuck, Ben,” she moaned breathlessly, clenching her fists in his hair, unconsciously pulling him closer, trembling and panting as he rocked his hand. Deep, slow thrusts, keeping her full of him, keeping her squirming and arching against the counter with desperate keens as his tongue worked her higher and higher.

All it took was the gentle curl of his fingers in just the right place for her to snap, crying out and tensing, squeezing around his digits as pleasure rocked through her whole body in waves. Through it all she could hear him groaning, soft and desperate, unwavering in the flick of his tongue and the rock of his hand.

He didn’t stop until she went limp, tingling and panting with breathy whines, twitching as he slowed to gentle, soft licks before getting ungracefully to his feet, pushing her shirt up as he dragged his wet mouth up her belly.

His hands on her hips made her stomach flutter, and a moment later he was flipping her onto her front on the counter with a low moan.

“Is this what you thought about?” he rasped, pulling her back a bit more, until Rey’s cheek was against the blissfully cool tile and her feet were back on the floor. He was pressing against her ass, still so thick and hard it made her breathe a soft whine of want, squirming back onto him.

He bent over her with another low moan so he could huff his next words into the back of her neck. “Getting bent over this counter and fucked, hm? Is that what you thought about when you were touching yourself tonight?”

“Yes,” she immediately gasped, squirming again and shivering. “Yes, yes, please, do it, _please_.”

He shuddered with a loud exhale, digging his forehead into her shoulder, his hips grinding hard against her ass and his hands digging bruises into her hips.

“Stay here,” he growled, sinking his teeth into her shoulder for a moment that made Rey jerk. “Stay here, don’t move.”

She whined and squirmed when he pulled away, immediately missing the heat of his body as he left the kitchen, making a beeline for his bedroom. She groaned in frustration, rubbing her forehead against the counter and clenching her thighs until he came back, his shirt gone and the subtle crinkle of foil in his hand.

Then he was behind her again, big and hot and hard, ripping the foil off the condom and sliding it down his length.

She spread her legs, arching back toward him with a whine, until he pressed his huge hand in the small of her back as he guided himself to her entrance.

 _Holy shit holy shit holy shit,_ she thought dizzily, his thick tip nudging up against her, promising to make her so fucking full.

“Tell me no,” he whispered, rubbing his thumb against her spine with surprising gentleness. “Tell me to stop, and I’ll stop.”

“Fuck me,” she growled, nudging back with determination until he _fucking finally_ gave her the thick press of his cock.

He went slow, but steady, sinking in with a long push of his hips that took her breath. _Fuck_ he was big, he was fucking incredible, seating himself completely inside her with a final little jerk of his hips.

Then he was completely, infuriatingly still; leaning down along her back with hard breaths jolting through his chest, both hands clenching and digging into her hips.

“Fuck, Ben, _move_ ,” she whined, shoving back, squeezing him inside her in a hard pulse.

“Fuck,” he gasped, digging his teeth into her shoulder and releasing one hand from her hip, shoving it up, under her chest and up her throat to grip her jaw with a growl.

She shuddered with a whine as he pulled her head to the side, his lips pressed against her cheek and his panting noisy against her face.

“You’re so tight,” he breathed. “Fuck, you're so tight, Rey, I don't wanna hurt you.”

“You won’t hurt me,” she moaned, squeezing again with a desperate little jerk. “You feel so good, Ben, you’re not hurting me. Please, just... more.”

He shuddered at the clench of her body, his hips reactively hitching before starting to move with a soft, desperate groan.

She had never felt anything so good, had never been so turned on and wet, the slick sound of his cock moving inside her almost as sinful as the feel of it.

“Oh my god,” she whined, squirming and clenching into every thrust, almost opening her mouth to beg, _Harder, faster, more, please, more._

“Greedy little thing, aren't you?” he breathed against the shell of her ear, his hips making a sudden slap against her ass as he jerked in _hard_.

She yelped, she couldn't help it, shoving back with a gush of arousal that dripped down her thighs and made him groan incredulously.

“Fuck, _fuck_ , your perfect little cunt.” If his growled words didn’t get her halfway there, the sharp slap of his hips did, hard and rapid so _fucking perfect_ Rey could scarcely breathe.

This, fuck, _this_. Rey couldn’t stop moaning, couldn't stop squirming and clenching, her knuckles white on the edge of the counter and her jaw slack in his hand. She just needed his fingers, just needed the firm stroke against her clit and she’d shatter, she’d come on his cock so hard he wouldn't be able to _move_.

He moaned, soft and breathless against her ear before letting go of her jaw to curl his hand under her shoulder, pulling her back onto the hard shove of his cock.

“Good girl,” he pressed breathlessly against the back of her neck, putting her immediately on the verge of spontaneous combustion. “You take it so good, sweetheart, you take it so goddamn good, you feel so goddamn good.”

Rey was going to die. She was going to burst into flames and turn into ash, right there on the breakfast bar.

“Oh god,” she choked, another rush of wetness soaking his dick, “god, please, touch me, Ben, please, I need to come, please-"

“Fuck!” he muffled the half-shout between her shoulder blades, the heel of his palm crushing against her clit so perfectly she couldn't do anything but climax.

It was a violent burst through her body, stealing her breath and turning her into a vise around him as he joined her instantaneously over the edge, deep groans vibrating through his chest and into her back.

Her whole body tingled, lightning strikes of sharp ecstasy shocking through her pelvis with the grind of his hand and his hips, stealing any hope of coherent thought until she cried out with oversensitivity.

“God, fuck, Ben, I can’t-" She writhed, trying to dislodge his hand with a sharp jerk, making him growl.

Still he lessened the pressure, just cupping her now, even as flutters still zinged through her pussy. She felt heavy and light at the same time, boneless yet vividly aware of every inch of her body as well as his, floating as her heart raced with her heavy breaths.

He made the most incredible, soft sounds against her shoulder, better than anything she could have imagined.

Her hazy mind lost all semblance of time; just floating in the sensation of Ben’s body against her back, his cock still thick inside her.

He stayed until he started going soft, until it was inevitable for them to move, and his palm slid from between her legs to reach for the base of the condom, holding it on as he pulled out.

She whimpered, muscles fluttering uselessly around nothing until he pressed a trail of kisses down her spine for a moment.

Then she heard him throw the condom away and wash his hands, while Rey just rubbed her damp forehead against the breakfast bar, too dazed to move yet.

She hummed when he came back, draping himself over her and giving the back of her head a soft kiss.

“Come to bed with me?” he whispered, like he wasn't sure, like he thought she might refuse, chose the sofa instead.

She nodded, mentally gearing herself up to move, when he pulled her upright and scooped her up, the same way he had when she had sprained her ankle.

Rey gasped in surprise, holding his bare shoulders tightly, then shaking her head with an amused huff.

“Show off,” she mumbled, tucking her face against his neck with a little smile.

He chuckled, carrying her through the living room and down the hallway, then carefully sidestepping through the doorway of his bedroom so as not to bang her feet against the doorframe.

The room was pitch black, but he navigated it easily from memory, setting her down on the bed.

“I need to go turn off the lights,” he murmured, “I’ll be right back.”

“Sure,” she agreed softly, watching his silhouette slip back out the door.

She heard him chuff, then the sound of water being dumped in the sink before the faucet turned on. Their tea, she realized, very obviously left undrunk on the counter.

He must be washing their mugs, and she bit her lip as she considered how much she wanted to sink down on his bed and get comfy vs using the bathroom.

“Bathroom,” she sighed, nodding determinedly to herself before getting up and shuffling carefully to the door.

He turned off the light in the living room just as she stepped into the hallway, making them bump into each other as she searched blindly for the bathroom door.

“Oh,” he said softly, steadying her with a hand on her shoulder for a moment before letting go.

“Sorry,” she murmured, managing to find the edge of the bathroom door and leaning around it to flick the light on. “There we go, that’s better.”

He shifted out of her way, his expression strangely sombre, and Rey trailed her hand up the inside of his forearm.

“I'll be right back,” she reassured him, “just using the bathroom.”

He breathed in, looking a little less serious, and nodded. “Right.”

She gave him a little smile, sliding her touch down to squeeze his hand for a second before letting go and slipping into the bathroom.

Rey shook her head with a little sigh as she used the toilet and cleaned herself up a bit. Did he really think she had changed her mind about following him to bed?

Her face was still a bit pink when she looked at it in the mirror, and she splashed a little water on it after washing her hands in an effort to cool down some. Then she dried her hands and face before turning out the light and slipping back into the hallway.

He had turned his bedside light on for her, and was sitting on the edge of the bed, his elbows on his knees. His room was as nicely furnished as the rest of his apartment, containing the bed, a dresser, a bedside table, a loveseat, and a couple more bookshelves, because _of course_ he had more bookshelves. She was happy to note that one was filled with DVDs instead of books, though, and she was eager to investigate what he had in the morning.

 _This nerd,_ she thought fondly, making her way across the room toward the bed.

He looked up at her as she drew near, and she nudged his knee with her own.

He sat up straight, and Rey took it upon herself to step between his knees, brushing both hands over his hair before leaning down to kiss him.

Where before he was eager, now he was gentle, almost tentative, his hands resting lightly on her waist. She was almost afraid that he didn't want her to kiss him until he pressed up with a soft moan, curling his tongue behind her teeth in a way that made her knees get weak.

She remedied that by deciding to straddle his lap, her knees planted on the mattress on either side of his hips and her chest flush to his.

He moaned again, his palms traveling up her back, his open hands warm and reassuring.

“Tell me something,” she murmured against his lips, petting her hands over his hair again with a little smile. “Are you the type who wants everyone out of your personal bubble when you sleep, or the type to cuddle all cozy?”

Another kiss, and he gave a lovely, soft sigh as his hands moved back down her back and down onto her thighs.

“Whatever you’re comfortable with,” he murmured, making her huff with a little shake of her head.

“Not what I asked, Ben. I want to know what _you_ like.”

She scratched her fingers lightly against his scalp, and the resulting moan and shiver told her that was something he _definitely_ liked.

“I don't know,” he whispered, “I've never had someone stay long enough to find out.”

She had no clue how to feel about that, as several emotions swept over her all at once; sadness, that he had never had a partner that wanted to share the night with him, swirled with a strange sort of satisfaction, almost possessiveness, that she would be the first. It felt fitting, it felt right, because he was the first partner she’d share the night with too.

“Cuddle first, personal bubble later if we want it?” she suggested, and he nodded. “Good.”

She leaned over, turning off the light while still in his lap, and took advantage of the pitch black to run her hands over his shoulders and chest, finally tracing with her hands what she had only been able to see, not touch, for the last four months.

He let out a soft, quick breath, rubbing his thumbs warmly against her thighs, and she carefully sought his mouth in the dark. She landed on his chin instead, but worked her way up with a little smirk.

“You’re so gorgeous,” she murmured between kisses, “God, I've practically drooled over you, you’re like one of those statues of Greek heroes or something.”

He let out a quiet huff of a laugh, his body relaxing more and more under the gentle rub of her hands.

“I mean it,” she sighed happily, tracing the line of his muscle on either side of his abdomen, making him twitch with another little huff. “Fuck, the first time I saw you at the gym, you lifted your shirt up to wipe your face and I almost moaned out loud.”

He chortled, kissing her with the tug of a smirk pulling up the corners of his mouth. “How do you think I felt when I saw you in that tank top?”

She giggled, the air between them getting warmer, more relaxed, and it was bringing that sleepy, post-orgasm feeling back to her limbs.

“That’s nothing, wait until we’re running that track in the spring, I'm busting out the booty shorts.”

He made a sound that was a strange mix of a laugh and a groan, his hands running back up her thighs and belly before sliding around to her back.

“Maybe by then I won't have to slow down for you so much.”

“Shut up.” She bit playfully at his lip as he chuckled, cheeky jerk. “I can’t help that I don't have giraffe legs like you.”

“Hm, maybe I can buy you some stilts.”

She dug her fingers into his belly, making him squirm with a choked sound. “Maz is right, you are a punk.”

He grabbed her hands, pinning them behind her back, taking his turn to bite to her lip, and she shivered delightedly.

“Maz called me a punk, did she?” he murmured, trailing his mouth down her neck. “See if she ever gets that Tullamore Dew now.”

Rey laughed, twisting her wrists in his grasp to try to free her hands again, but he held firm with a little nibble along her collarbone.

“No, I don't trust you now, you tickled me.”

“You were being smarmy, it served you right.”

He chortled, but released her wrists and let her rub her hands over his shoulders and back.

“I keep telling you that I'm an asshole.”

“Yes you do, but it strangely doesn't seem to affect how fond I am of you, so you might want to give up soon. You’re starting to sound like a broken record.”

His lips stilled on the ball of her shoulder, and she slid her hands up the back of his neck and into his hair.

“What did I say wrong?” she whispered, biting her lip, and he shook his head before pressing another kiss.

“Nothing,” he murmured. “It’s just... nice. To hear you say that. I'm very fond of you too. Obviously, I guess.”

Hearing him say so made Rey feel warm, obvious or not, and she scratched her fingertips against his scalp with a soft smile. He sighed warmly, working his way back to her neck and burying his face there with another sigh.

“Let’s lie down,” she whispered encouragingly. He nodded, pressing another kiss to her neck before twisting to swing his legs up onto the mattress and lie down, pulling her down on top of him.

She wiggled to the side with a chortle, helping him pull the covers up before snuggling close.

Her head was tucked under his chin, their arms around each other, and Rey had never felt safer, curled in the warmth of his body.

“I like this,” she murmured sleepily, nuzzling against his chest with a sigh, and he hummed agreeably.

“Me too.”

She was half asleep when he rubbed his lips against the top of her head, pressing soft, whispered words there quietly. “Goodnight, Rey.”

She managed to give her arms a little squeeze in return, her lips against his sternum. “Goodnight, Ben.”


	9. Chapter 9

Rey woke up alone, but forgave him for that when she smelled coffee.

She didn't want to move. His bed was the most comfortable she had ever been in, for a start, and she felt heavy with sleepiness still, which told her it was earlier than she wanted it to be. She was also a bit sore, muscles protesting her choice of activity the night before, but she couldn't honestly complain about that.

Stretching helped, then she rolled onto her belly with a deep sigh, tucking her hands under the pillow. The sheets smelled like him, which she could never complain about, and she took another couple deep breaths.

She was halfway back to sleep again when she felt herself being watched. Normally that would concern her, but just knowing that it was Ben made her excited rather than apprehensive. She cracked open an eye just enough to take a peek

He was leaning against the doorframe, already dressed and drinking from a red mug as he watched her. He looked gorgeous, how did he always look so amazing? More black, but this sweater had a little bit of a v-neck, showing a glimpse of his collarbones and the little hollow at the base of his throat.

“Why are you so far away?” she eventually sighed, his expression shifting to one tinged with guilt. “C’mere.”

He crossed the room to sit beside her, and she shuffled onto her back with a sigh.

“I didn’t want to wake you, that’s all,” he murmured. “You seemed like you needed the extra sleep.”

A little smirk and he turned adorably pink, making her laugh as she sat up.

“What?” she said innocently, taking his coffee cup from his hand and sipping from it with a cheeky look. It was barely lightened with cream, too bitter for her taste, but it was worth it just to see him look at her like she was some kind of mix of insane and mystifying.

She snickered, returning it to his hand. “My god, don’t look so traumatised, you can have it back.”

“Now I remember why I never let anyone stay the night,” he grumbled, taking a long swallow from the mug, and Rey chortled.

“If I knew you were this serious about your coffee I would have started bringing one to class as a peace offering.”

“Keurig coffee is not an acceptable peace offering.”

“Pretentious coffee snob.” She shook her head.

“Are you actually judging me for having standards?”

“Yes. I’m shocked you ever drink the cafeteria coffee.”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures.”

She laughed, shaking her head again, and it actually managed to coax a little smile onto his face too.

“Am I allowed to have any of this very prestigious coffee of yours?”

“Absolutely not, you don’t get to talk down to my coffee then have some.”

“I can apologize,” she murmured, sliding her hand onto Ben’s thigh, trailing it slowly upward with a soft smile. “Make it up to you.”

He froze, flushing again and biting his lip with a weary expression.

“Rey...” he murmured, placing his hand over hers, stopping the climb of her fingers up his thigh with a squeeze before putting his coffee aside. “We need to talk about this.”

Her heart sank into her stomach like a lead weight. Right. Of course. All the reasons this was a bad idea, all the reasons why it would never work, all the reasons why he just saw this as a fling, a one-time mistake in the middle of the night in a moment of weakness.

“Right,” she whispered, looking away from his apologetic eyes, humiliation filling up her chest. She was an idiot, to think that this was the start of something, of course it wasn’t. They’d tell themselves that they were just fucking it out of their system, this chemistry between them, and when Rey went back to her dorm in January they’d never see each other again. “No, it’s okay, you don’t have to say anything. I get it. I’ll just... I’ll call Maz, see if she’s coming back tonight, and-”

She tried to pull away, slip out of the bed so she could get dressed, but she suddenly found herself being pulled into his lap, his strong arms circling her and holding her against him with surprising determination.

“Stop,” he husked the words against the side of her head, pressing a soft kiss there, his arms squeezing around her waist and across her legs. “Don’t put words in my mouth, don’t act like you know anything I want to say. Just... just listen.”

Rey knew what he was going to say, it was all there in that sad look he had, his hesitancy to be touched by her. She could feel disappointed tears welling in her eyes, and the rational part of her brain was telling her she should pull away, should put her feet on the floor and run before he had a chance to hurt her, but her desperate, hopelessly enamoured heart just couldn’t let him go, demanding to feel his warmth and the heavy weight of his arms around her for as long as she possibly could before it all fell away.

She pushed one hand down to hook around his back and the other pressed over his heart, fingers curling in the fabric of his sweater and holding on tight.

“What?” she whispered.

He sighed, tucking her head under his chin and letting her press her cheek against his collarbone.

“Have you ever had these moments, when you consider your family and just think, ‘Christ, I’m never ending up like my parents, I’m never making their mistakes.’?”

She wasn’t expecting that, wasn’t sure how to answer for a moment, frowning against his collarbone as she processed this weird turn in the conversation.

“Of course I have,” she eventually answered in a murmur, “you know what happened to me. You know that they left me.”

“I know.” She felt his throat bob as he swallowed, his arms tightening around her for a moment. There was a long pause, like he was carefully choosing his words, while Rey just watched the movement of his chest as he breathed.

“My mom met my dad when she was just nineteen,” he murmured after a moment. “He was thirty-two, and they met when he crashed a campus party at her university. He was a criminal- literally, he dealt with black market car parts and did drag racing for god’s sake- and she was the daughter of a Senator, going to law school.”

Rey listened, still frowning, uncertain why he was telling her this, but too captivated to even dare trying to ask.

“And it wasn’t supposed to be anything, he was supposed to be some stupid, wild fling while she powered through school. Then some poorly managed condom use and they ended up trapped with me, and that plan went to shit. And I don’t...” He puffed out a quick huff of breath, pressing his lips against her hair for a moment as he swallowed. “I don’t mean to say that my parents didn’t love each other. I think they did. But one little fuck up rerouted my mom’s whole life plan, and I don’t think she ever really forgave him for that. Or forgave me, really.”

Tears misted her eyes, the quiet vulnerability in his voice like a knife in her heart, making her curl her arm tighter around him and her hand clench harder in the handful of his sweater.

“The point is,” he said softly, “this feels like their mistake all over again. Like we’re the same idiots my parents were, mistaking the thrill of a forbidden romance for... for more than that.”

Her heart was hammering, her fingers loosening, then tightening again in her handful of his sweater.

“Is that really what you think?” she whispered. “That I’m just living out some hot-for-teacher fantasy and I’ll want to bolt as soon as I get bored or graduate?”

“I don’t know,” he sighed.

“Is that how _you_ feel?” She pulled back, looking at his sombre face. “Like you only like me because it’s some thrilling, dirty affair to fuck a student?”

His face flushed and he swallowed, pain clear in his eyes as he answered. “No.”

“No?”

“ _No._ ” His voice was rough, strained, but his eyes were nothing but raw truth. “But I’m too fucking old for flings, and you’re too damn young to get stuck with someone like me.”

Oh _fuck him_ , that’s what this was? Some kind of nonsense where he convinced himself he was doing her a favor, that he was saving her from himself?

“You don’t get to make that choice for me,” she said quietly, her voice hard-edged and serious. “You don’t get to decide what’s best for me.”

“Rey-”

“No, you listen. I listened to you, it’s my turn to talk.”

He clenched his jaw, clearly frustrated and anxious at being silenced, but thankfully complying with her demand.

“We are not your parents. I'm not interested in you because you're some kind of kinky fantasy I can play out. If that was the case, I would have come to your office in a skimpy dress ages ago, and I wouldn't have been so upset about you getting in trouble because of me. And guess what? I don't do flings either. I've had offers, you know, you’re not the first handsome man to be interested in me.”

His expression darkened a little, his jaw clenching.

“But I didn't want some college bullshit that was over in two months, or until he got tired of putting in the work required to fuck me. You’re not like that, I know you’re not.”

His hand tightened on her thigh.

“Look, I grew up in a shitty foster.” She swallowed around the lump in her throat. “I had no one I could trust, no one I could count on, absolutely _no one_ who gave a shit about me beyond what I could do for them.”

Ben’s gaze grew more pained, and his lips pressed together tightly.

“I'm looking for people in my life I can trust, people I can depend on, and I want them to feel that way about me too. Don't you act like I'm too young to know better for wanting that with you, alright? Respect me that much, fuck.”

Tears were stinging her eyes, blurring his features and putting a crack in her voice that she determinately swallowed down.

“If you can't see this being anything more than last night, that’s fine, you can't help how you feel about me. But if the only thing holding you back is worrying about whether I’m serious or not, you're an idiot. And a condescending asshole.”

“I don’t want you to get lost in this,” he interrupted softly, “that’s what I'm trying to say. I don't want you to realize you wasted time on me, that you could have spent college-"

“What, being lonely and single?”

“Exploring every option available to you. Not catering any part of your life to suit another person, not making choices where you feel like you have to tailor them to accommodate me.”

She read the unspoken words, tucked into everything he was saying; _I don’t want to end up a burden to you the way I burdened my parents. I don’t want you to regret me._

“Are you even listening to me?” she huffed, shoving at his chest a little with a shake of her head. “I've been alone my whole life. I want to have people to worry about. I want to have people I can devote my time to. I want you to be one of them, stupid.”

He still seemed unsure, looking at her with that sad weariness again, and Rey tightened her hand in his sweater once more.

“If that’s not what you want-" she tried to repeat, but he shook his head with a huff.

“No, I... that is what I want.”

“Then I don't see a problem.”

He sighed, long and slow, eyebrows furrowed at her like she was utterly mystifying.

“Life’s too short to constantly second guess yourself, Ben. Are we in this or not?”

He sighed again, turning his face to press against her shoulder, a gentle kiss through the fabric of her shirt. His shirt, technically.

“We’re in this. There are still so many reasons this is a bad idea, but god help me, I'm too selfish to turn you away.”

Rey’s heart immediately felt light as a feather, a little smile spreading across her mouth, and she turned her head toward him to kiss his hair.

“I think you mean ‘already too hopelessly in love with you to turn you away.’ It’s okay, I'm great, I don't blame you,” she teased gently, raising her hand from his chest to cup the back of his neck.

She hoped for a little chortle, hoped her words would break the nervous tension between them, but he was suspiciously silent.

“Can I ask you something?” he murmured instead, changing the subject, and Rey let him.

“Fire away.”

“The whole... wishing me a good day thing. Do you say that to all your teachers?”

She laughed, digging her fingers into his hair and coaxing his head back to look at her.

“Just you,” she smiled, pressing her forehead against his with a wide grin. “My secret ploy, you see. One of my many tools to melt that notorious iceman heart of yours.”

She slipped her hand down onto his chest again, rubbing her open palm over his sternum, and finally managed to get an amused huff from him.

“Is my reputation really that bad?” he asked.

“Depends on who you talk to. The English majors seem to see you as a demi-god of the English language while the rest of us mere mortals just hope to be spared from your wrath.”

He chortled, brushing the end of his nose against hers. “Hm, I like that idea. Think I could get some alters put up around campus?”

She laughed again, angling her head a little to barely brush her lips against his as she spoke, “Dunno. Would you accept a non-virgin sacrifice to tide you over?”

She slid her hand down, down over his abdomen to the zip of his jeans, cupping him in her hand through the thick denim.

He let out a little gasp, his hands tightening around her as she gave him a gentle squeeze.

“That... should be acceptable.”

She pressed in for a proper kiss with a smirk, rubbing gently at him, feeling him slowly getting hard under her hand.

“Let me blow you,” she whispered against his lips, giving another gentle squeeze as she said it.

His whimper made her flush hot, his kiss turning practically savage for a moment, then he growled, releasing her legs to fist his hand in her hair.

“You’re going to be the fucking death of me, Rey.”

“And what a good way to go,” she smirked again, pushing the hem of his sweater up so she could get to his belt.

He moaned, pressing another hard kiss to her lips before letting her slide off his lap and settle on her knees on the floor between his legs.

“Fuck, I’ve thought about this for so long,” she murmured, slipping the tongue of his belt out of the buckle. “How you would sound, how you would taste.”

“Christ,” he rasped, his hand in her hair tightening as the other leaned back against the bed, his gaze captivated and eager.

She was careful as she slipped the button out of its loop and tugged down the zipper, then reached up to hook her fingers into the top of his jeans as well as his underwear.

She couldn’t help but chuckle, looking up to see him frowning at her with a little crease between his eyebrows.

“What is it with you and black? I mean honestly, black underwear too?”

“ _That’s_ your complaint? That I’m not wearing tighty-whities?”

She laughed, leaning up to push his sweater up his belly so she could trail her mouth along the goddamn sexy V of muscle that lead down to his pelvis.

“I’m not complaining,” she murmured against him, his muscles quivering a little at the puff of her breath, “I’m just observing. It’s sexy, my man in black.”

He huffed softly, lifting his hips when she tugged both his jeans and underwear down to rest mid-thigh, just giving her enough room to work.

Fuck, he was gorgeous everywhere. She hadn’t been able to see him at all last night, only feel him, but her mouth practically watered as she finally got a good, close look at his amazing cock.

Ben let out a long, slow, shaky breath as she leaned in, taking the base of his cock into her hand and running her tongue slow and soft along the underside of him. He was so hot, his flesh stiff and skin soft, and he smelled masculine, but clean; he must have showered before she woke up.

She reached the head, her eyes flicking up to look at him before she rubbed her tongue against the underside of his glans, then enveloped his tip in her mouth.

He shuddered, his fingers tightening in her hair and his hips hitching into her mouth with bare restraint.

Rey let her eyes slip closed as she sank down, running her tongue experimentally from side to side while he panted unevenly, his hand clenching and unclenching in her hair, clearly fighting the impulse to try to control her movement. She’d let him, eventually, let him show her what pace he liked, experiment with her tongue to see what really got him hot, but at the moment she was appreciative that he was just letting her have free reign over him.

She pushed down until she was at risk of gagging, then pulled back and off, trailing her hand up to the spit-wet part of his length to get her palm wet.

“Tell me when you’re close,” she murmured, looking up at him and licking her lips, heart fluttering at the awed, entranced way he was watching at her.

“Yeah,” he breathed with a little nod, and she gave him the ghost of a smirk as she enveloped him in her mouth again.

Fuck, there was so much she wanted to do to him. She had a goddamn laundry list, she had a semester’s worth of fantasies dying to play out.

“I hate how much I’ve thought about this,” he confessed with a soft moan, the head of his dick thick and smooth under the rub of her tongue. “Fuck, I felt like such a lech, wanting this so much. Wanting you so much.”

Rey could hardly contain her moan, could hardly do anything but squeeze her legs together, his words an inescapable catalyst of liquid lust down her spine. He had thought about this, he had wanted it, wanted her, and her head was fucking _spinning_.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he groaned, his hand tightening in her hair as her head slowly bobbed, sliding her mouth wet and hot around him over and over, “you’re fucking perfect.”

It was ridiculous, it was almost embarrassing, how much his praise dug right into the lustful, needy part of her brain like claws, flooding her belly with warmth and her pussy with aching need. And his _mouth_ ; in the span of 24 hours she had gone from never hearing him curse to being insanely, outrageously turned on by every “fuck” that dropped from his lips.

Her clit was throbbing, begging her for attention as arousal pooled inside her, and there was no way she was making it much longer without touching herself. She gave in with a moan, pushing a hand between her legs with a whine, rubbing her clit with desperate little circles as she moved her mouth faster, the sharp tang of his precome bursting over her tongue.

“Fuck,” he cursed again, panting and squirming, twitching into every downward sink of her mouth with a strangled sound.

It was good, it was so good, feeling the evidence of his desire between her lips, swallowing messily as his cock leaked into the heat of her mouth. She tried a flutter of her tongue and a tight squeeze of her hand, and was rewarded almost instantly with a sharp, breathless cry.

“Oh god, don’t do that,” he groaned, his fingers almost painfully tight in her hair, “I’m gonna come, you do that again, oh my god.”

Later, she most definitely would, she would do it again and again until he forced her to stop, until he was too sensitive to even think about her mouth on his dick. At that moment, however, she had other plans for him.

She went back to her gentler, rhythmic sucking and bobbing, her hand and mouth together traveling his hot length with abandon as her fingers rubbed between her legs.

“Shit, I’m close, I’m close.” His strangled words almost didn’t break through her hazy reverie, the fog of lust nearly making her deaf to anything that wasn’t her fingers on her clit and the taste of him in her mouth.

He hissed when she fell back, letting him slip from her mouth with a wet pop, wiping her lips and chin with the back of her hand as she panted.

“Oh god, please,” he gasped, looking half out of it and desperate, his hand in her hair trying to coax her back in to his dick, “Please-”

She smirked, she couldn’t help it, seeing her strong, dominating Professor almost frantic and pleading, but she wanted so much more than this.

She surged up, pushing her hands flat against his chest to force him back on the bed as she climbed astride him.

“Oh god, oh fucking-” he moaned, grabbing her hips as she slid her wetness against his length, just rubbing against him with a moan of her own as she pushed her hands under his sweater.

He obediently helped her tug it up and off, lost over the side of the bed as she ran her hands all over his chest.

“Goddamn _look_ at you,” she moaned, scratching her nails against his nipples lightly, making him jerk with a sharp grunt. “Fuck, how is this _allowed_ , no one should be so fucking hot.”

There was a blush spreading down his face and neck, his hands gripping her harder as his throat bobbed with a quick swallow. He got even pinker a second later, when she ground down on him with a little groan, getting his cock even wetter with the arousal between her legs.

“God, where are the condoms?” she panted, squeezing him with her legs and raking her blunt nails down his sides, _living_ for the way he writhed and grunted.

“Bed- bedside drawer,” he growled, steadying her when she leaned back to jerk the drawer open.

Fuck, she’d tease him for this drawer later; condoms, lube, what looked like a fleshlight and a bullet vibrator organized in it neatly, but for now she just concentrated on the condom, on getting it open and rolling it down his length.

Sinking down onto him was almost too much; it felt so much deeper like this, he felt thicker and longer, taking up all the space in her belly by the time she was flush with his body. She couldn’t help but squeeze, grinding her clit against his pelvis with a desperate little swivel, and the way pleasure spiked through her body rivaled the hedonistic growl that erupted from his throat.

“Oh god,” she whined, raising a little before sinking back down, watching him through half-lidded eyes, watching the way he arched and panted like she was torturing him with the small, slow thrusts of her hips.

“Fuck, Rey, _fuck_ ,” he wheezed, digging more bruises into her hips with his hands and biting his lip. “God, please baby, I need...”

“I know what you need,” she moaned, a lightning thrill shaking through her body at the sight of him; desperate and aching, begging her to give him more, to let him come.

She would, she wouldn’t deny him, not when she had thought about this a hundred times, when she had wanted so badly to know what he would be like, turned on and hard under her, inside her.

Rey braced her hands on his chest with a moan, digging her knees into the mattress as she started to really move, to give them both the deep, hard, satisfying thrusts that they both wanted so badly.

“Get this off,” he suddenly growled, grabbing the shirt she was still somehow wearing and shoving it up. “I want to see you, get this off.”

Rey raised her arms and ground against his pelvis as she let him tug it up and off, lost with his sweater somewhere on the floor with barely a second thought.

“Shit,” he moaned, tracing his hands all over her, licking his lips as his eyes hungrily devoured every inch of her skin. “God, Rey, you’re so gorgeous.”

His words were so earnest, punching straight into Rey’s chest, cranking her dial so shamefully hard that she hid her blush behind the fall of her hair as she leaned forward, her hands digging into his chest.

He was fucking gorgeous. He was watching her like she was the center of the universe, like there was nothing in existence more captivating to him than the sight of her, more captivating than the pleasure she was taking from the deep press of his cock.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his head titled back against the mattress with a groan, his hips jolting up to meet her thrusts with powerful jerks. “Fuck, Rey, I’m not- I can’t-”

He wasn’t going to last much longer, already wound tight from her mouth, and Rey moaned.

“Oh god,” he whined, his hand suddenly dipping between her legs, clumsy but determined, and Rey cried out in shock when his thumb found her clit, the jolt of pleasure striking up her spine in a sharp burst.

“Fuck, Ben, yes, just-” she babbled, her rhythm getting unsteady, but he didn’t seem to care, rubbing her clit in hard circles that stole her breath.

“That’s it,” he breathed, his eyes scrunched closed in concentration and pleasure, sweat starting to make her purchase on his chest slippery. “That’s it, sweetheart, you too, _please_.”

It was the fucking _please_ that did her in, his desperation for her pleasure hitting her hard and low and making her completely fall apart.

She forced her eyes open when he made a strangled sound, his hands gripping her hips with bruising force to grind her down, to ride the clench of her pussy to his own completion.

Fuck he was so pretty, mouth open and eyebrows furrowed, head tilted back to expose the long column of his throat. It was better than anything her imagination could conjure, seeing him like this, real and visceral in a way her fantasies couldn't hope to match.

She shook and moaned, grinding her clit against his pelvis as she rode out every last ounce of pleasure her orgasm could give her, watching him greedily as he gasped and jerked into every tight clench of her pussy around his length like it was the single greatest thing he had ever felt.

She leaned forward as the last shudders of pleasure shook through her, her elbows collapsing weakly until her forehead was pressed just under his collarbone, her fast breath huffing against his sweat-damp chest.

“Oh my god,” he groaned, no better off than she was, his chest rapidly heaving under her as his hands traced aimlessly over her sides and back.

“Yeah,” she agreed with a breathless smirk, pressing a little string of messy kisses against his chest, her whole body feeling weightless and heavy at the same time.

That was all they said for a while, Ben’s hands continuing to move gently in an aimless pattern over her and she pressed random, sporadic kisses against his chest.

When she found the strength to move, she sat back slowly, reaching down between them to hold the condom in place as she pulled off with a little whimper.

She collapsed to the side, wincing with a little moan at the sore pull of her muscles.

“Alright?” he asked in a soft murmur, tilting his head to the side to look at her, and she gave a breathless laugh.

“Never better,” she sighed, stretching her legs out with a little moan. “My legs will forgive me eventually.”

He chortled, rolling onto his side to kiss her shoulder with a hum. “I'm definitely going to have to push you harder on the track.”

She laughed again, playfully smacking his shoulder with the back of her hand. “Shut the fuck up, Solo.”

Another low chortle with a second press of his lips, then he got up, pulling the condom off to throw it away and trying to hike his pants back up one-handedly.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked him, getting a raised eyebrow of confusion in return. “Keep those pants off, dummy, I want you back in this bed.”

He blushed, but didn't argue, shoving them back down and stepping out of them before disappearing to the bathroom to throw away the condom.

She sat up when he came back, shoving the blankets down and pointing to the bed before taking a turn in the bathroom.

“Lay down,” she instructed, pulling him in for a kiss as she passed by, “I'll be right back, and I expect you to let me have my way with you some more.”

She gave him a cheeky smile, making him chuckle, but he did as she said anyway.

Rey used the bathroom and brushed her teeth for good measure, then returned to his bedroom. He was in bed at least, but sitting up, finishing his coffee that had to be cold by then.

He placed his empty mug on the nightstand as she came back, his gaze catching on her and holding, flicking down her body as she moved across the room to the bed.

The hungry look in his eyes made her blush with a little shiver, stilling her steps beside the bed, and his brown eyes jumped back up to her face.

“Come here,” he murmured warmly, reaching for her and coaxing her onto the bed with him.

A bit of shuffling and repositioning later, and she was cradled against his body, her back to his front, one of his arms under her neck and curled up at an angle to cup her shoulder as the other wrapped tight around her waist.

He sighed deeply into her hair as Rey laid her hands over both of his, thumbs stroking gently over his knuckles.

“Can I ask you something?” she said, and he hummed inquiringly. “You said you've been thinking about me, about doing all of this with me. How long?”

He squeezed his arms around her a little, taking a long breath.

“I don’t know,” he mumbled. “A while. I tried not to think about it when it wasn't happening, it made me feel like a creep.”

“You're not a creep. A creep would have invited me into his office and offered an A in exchange for a blow job.”

“Jesus,” he grumbled, pressing his forehead against the back of her skull a little harder for a second. “I... I don't even know what to say to that.”

“That I'm right, and you’re not a creep.”

He chuffed, squeezing her again. “Thanks, I guess.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I've been fantasizing about you since the first week of class. Why do you think I sat in the front row?”

He groaned, pressing a kiss into her hair. “I... I noticed. Every day I had to convince myself that it was my imagination, that the way you looked at me...”

“Was exactly what you thought. It was me getting turned on by listening to you talk, by you looking as good as you do.”

“You are far too complimentary of me,” he murmured, and she had a feeling he was blushing. “Honestly, Rey, you can't have possibly-"

“I can, and I did. Just accept that you’re sexy, Solo, honestly.”

He laughed lowly, shaking his head and tightening his arms around her.

“I accept that you think so. And I'm glad that you do, it makes me feel less like the Beast to your Belle.”

“Oh shut up,” she giggled. “You can't possibly think of yourself as beastly.”

“You’d be surprised what years of being called ugly can do.”

It pained her, that anyone had been so callous to him, and she reached her hand up to stroke over his hair gently, tilting her head to the side toward him.

“Well, you’re not. Not even close.”

He was quiet, and she heard him swallow before whispering a quiet, “Thank you.”

They were silent for a few moments, Rey still petting his hair over her shoulder until her arm got too tired to continue. Maybe he’d let her put his head in her lap later, let her comb her fingers through the soft locks until he fell asleep.

“Stay the rest of winter break with me,” he suddenly whispered.

Rey’s heart fluttered, freezing her up in momentary shock. He... he more or less just asked her to move in with him for a month, and she didn't know what to say she was so taken off guard.

“I know that's insane,” he pressed on hurriedly, “I know, and you can say no- you probably should say no- but... last night.”

He took a deep breath, shaking his head a little. “When I came out to make tea and you were there, sitting in my chair and just... looking so content; it felt right. Like you were meant to be there. And this morning, waking up with you...”

His arms tightened again, and he huffed a soft breath into her hair. “It was the best I've felt in a really long time. It took so much willpower to get out of bed, to put some distance between me and what we did so I could think. Because sharing a bed with you feels right too, like it’s exactly where we’re meant to be.”

Rey felt speechless; on the verge of emotional tears or smiling like a complete loon, she couldn't figure out which.

“Which is insane,” he continued, “I know it’s insane, so you can pretend I never asked, I never said anything, I know-"

 _“Ben,”_ she interrupted him, reaching back again to tug on his hair a little, then wiggling a bit to peer at him over her shoulder. He looked anxious and self-deprecating, clearly already kicking himself for his query and the subsequent rush of words, and that simply would not do.

“Stop freaking out,” she chided softly, “Of course I'd love to stay with you, you madman. Why on earth would I spend all of winter break alone instead of with you?”

“Because this is really fast,” he murmured. “Yesterday I had to talk myself out of kissing you the minute you walked in the door and now I'm asking you to live with me for three weeks.”

“After months of flirting and talking. Getting you all to myself for three weeks sounds like a dream. And I can always go back across the hall if I get on your nerves.”

“I doubt that you’ll get on my nerves.”

“I'm not as neat as you.”

“Neither was my college roommate. I'll work around it.”

“And I will try to be considerate of your tidiness. I'm not a complete disaster, but I do occasionally leave laundry on the floor.”

“If that’s your worst offense I can definitely live with that.”

She grinned at him, a feeling like butterflies zipping around her insides.

“You really sure you want me stay?” she couldn't help but ask softly.

He nodded. “I really do.”

“Okay,” she murmured, her smile getting a little wider. “Then I would love to stay.”

He leaned up a little, pressing a kiss to her mouth that made her feel warm all over.

“Good.” he whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Romantic nerds. :)
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading, the love for this fic wildly surpassed my expectations, which has been amazing! The next installment, titled "And You, Miss Johnson" is up and complete, giving you Ben's point of view for some of the events of this story, plus more of their winter break together. Hope you like it!

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you're enjoying! If you want to hang out with me on tumblr, click: [here](https://faequeentitania.tumblr.com)


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